tf-na+n  the  JMuiaitf. 

*7 he  Pev.rf-'iede/ucJz  Sdutasidi. 
{ptuH&ilif,  jbea+t  of 

St.  Pcmli  Gatlteclial, 
jbefoait,  MidtUfO+t 
wlta  died  October  ■Lwctlt,  194-8 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2018  with  funding  from 
Duke  University  Libraries 


https://archive.org/details/eventsinlifeofse01davi 


EVENTS 

THE  LITE  OE  A  SEER; 

BEING 

MEMORANDA  OF  AUTHENTIC  FACTS 


IN 


MAGNETISM,  CLAIRVOYANCE,  SPIRITUALISM. 


BY 

ANDREW  JACKSON  DAVIS. 


WITH  A  1ST  APPENDIX, 

CONTAINING  ZSCHOKKHS  GREAT  STORY  OF  “  HORTENSIA,”  VIVIDLY 
PORTRAYING  THE  WIDE  DIFFERENCE  BETWEEN  THE  ORDI¬ 
NARY  STATE  AND  THAT  OF  CLAIRVOYANCE. 


8IXTH  EDITION. 


BOSTON : 

BANNER  OF  LIGHT 
PUBLISHING  COMPANY. 


I 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1868,  by 
ANDREW  JACKSON  DAVIS, 

in  the  Clerk’s  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  for  th« 
District  of  New  Jersey. 


/ 


DEDICATION 


) 


P 


THIS  VOLUME  IS  RESPECTFULLY  DEDICATED: 

FIRST— 10  PROUD  MEN  IN  SCIENCE ; 

Hamlet. — Come  hither,  gentlemen. . . .Once  more,  good  friends. 

Horatio. — ....But  this  is  wondrous  strange  ! 

Hamlet. — And  therefore  as  a  stranger  give  it  welcome.  There  are  more  things  in 
heaven  and  earth,  Horatio,  than  are  dreamt  of  in  your  philosophy. 

SECOND,- TO  MORALISTS  OF  EVERY  SCHOOL; 

Thrice  is  he  armed  who  hath  his  quarrel  just — 

And  he  but  naked,  though  locked  up  in  steel, 

Whose  conscience  with  injustice  is  corrupted. — Shakespeare. 

THIRD,- TO  ANTI-PROGRESSIVE  CHRISTIANS; 

Quench  not  the  spirit;  despise  not  prophesyings.  Prove  all  things;  hold  fnst 
that  which  is  good. — Paul. 

FOURTH,— TO  RETICENT  MEN  OF  IDEAS; 

No  object  really  interests  us  but  man,  and  in  man  only  his  superiorities _ Every 

man  Is  entitled  to  be  valued  at  his  best  moments.... I  look  upon  the  simple  and 
childish  virtues  of  veracity  and  honesty  as  the  root  of  all  that  is  sublime  in  character. 
...Speak  as  you  think,  be  what  you  are,  pay  your  debts  of  all  kinds. — Emerson. 

FIFTH.- TO  TIMID  MEN  IN  ALL  PROFESSIONS; 

Any  theory,  hypothesis,  philosophy,  sect,  creed,  or  institution,  that  fears  invest!* 
gation,  openly  manifests  its  own  error. — Davis. 

SIXTH,- TO  EXCLUSIVES  IN  ALL  RELIGIONS; 

Let  no  one  call  God,  Father,  who  calls  not  Man,  Brother.— A  Spirit. 

LASTLY,- TO  ALL  HUMAN  KIND, 

WITH  THE  FRATERNAL  LOVE  OF  THEIR  FRIEND  AND  BROTHER, 


Okangb,  N.  J.,  March  16,  1S6S. 


THE  AUTHOR. 


6 


PUBLISHERS  INTRODUCTION. 


“  if  they  are  to  profit  by  the  lessons  of  history,  they 
ought,  after  surveying  these  mortifying  examples  of 
human  weakness  and  wickedness,  to  dismiss  from  their 
minds  every  prejudice  against  the  present  subject 
founded  on  its  hostile  reception  by  men  of  established 
reputation  of  the  present  day.”  And  he  adds,  that, 
“  if  the  new  theory  should  prove  true,  posterity  will 
view  the  contumelies  heaped  on  its  founders  as  another 
dark  speck  In  the  history  of  discovery  ;  and  that  he  who 
wishes  to  avoid  all  participation  in  this  ungenerous 
treatment  should  dismiss  prejudice  and  calmly  listen  to 
evidence  and  reason,  and  thus  not  encounter  the  chance 
of  adding  his  name  to  the  melancholy  list  of  the 
enemies  of  mankind  by  refusing,  on  the  strength  of 
mere  prejudice,  to  be  instructed  in  the  new  doctrines 
when  submitted  to  his  consideration.” 

The  appendix  to  this  volume  contains  Zschokke’s 
remarkable  and  instructive  story  of  the  “Transfigura¬ 
tions,”  illustrating  the  curative  power  of  human  mag¬ 
netism,  and  the  spiritual  beauty  and  purity  of  the 
“superior  condition;”  and,  also,  a  carefully  compiled, 
instructive,  and  most  cheering  history  of  the  introduc¬ 
tion  of  the  Harmonial  Philosophy  into  Germany. 


MEMORANDA 


i. 


A  JOURNEY  IN  THE  DARK. 


New  York,  November  1 1th,  1845. 

I  do  not  mean  to  think  myself  over-taxed  or  discon¬ 
tented,  for  this  is  not  true.  But  my  life  is  immersed  in 
a  sea  of  uncertainty.  Late  this  afternoon  I  returned 
from  a  toilsome  journey,*  the  incidents  whereof  so  soon 
have  passed  out  of  memory !  I  dimly  recall  mud- 
puddles,  streets,  ferry-boats,  oil-barrels,  sea-chests,  a 
dismal  vault,  tobacco  smoke,  torches,  and  the  features 
of  gypsy-looking  men  and  women.  But  it  is  vanishing 
while  I  write,  like  the  “  baseless  fabric  of  a  vision  ;  ” 
yet,  incredible  as  it  may  seem  to  others,  I  have  a  feel¬ 
ing  of  positiveness  that  it  was  a  real  journey,  and  not  a 
dream.  It  sometimes  seems  to  me  that  I  shall  be  the 
happiest  boy  in  the  world  when  the  time  comes  for  me 
to  recollect  and  comprehend  all  the  wonderful  things  I 
hear  about  myself. 

*  Further  information  concerning  this  experience  maybe  found  in  the 
“Present  Age  and  Inuor  Life,"  p.  181,  et  seq. 


8 


MEMORANDA. 


2. 


TWO  LIVES  IN  ONE  BOY. 

No.  92  Greene  Street,  New  York,  November  28 th,  1845. 

It  is  said  that  I  am  to  begin  a  “  Course  of  Lectures  ” 
to-night  in  the  presence  of  witnesses  !  Why  isn’t  my 
heart  fluttering  and  palpitating  beneath  this  over¬ 
whelming  mysterious  responsibility  ?  Was  any  other 
boy  ever  so  situated,  and  so  uncomfortably  perplexed 
about  himself?  I  am  sure  that  I  have  not  a  word  of  a 
“  Lecture  ”  in  my  mind.  These  two  boys— or,  rather, 
this  one  boy  with  his  two  lives — bother  and  confuse 
me.  The  boy  in  his  natural  state  knows  nothing  of  the 
same  boy  in  the  magnetic  state.  They  tell  me  what 
was  done  when  I  am  treating  the  sick,  and  they  read  to 
me  the  notes  they  took  of  what  was  said  ;  but  it  seems 
like  an  account  of  the  doings  and  speeches  of  a  person 
living  in  a  distant  country . I  am  wonder¬ 

ing  every  few  moments  whether  it  will  be  possible  for 
that  other  boy  to  lecture  to-night?  And,  if  he  does, 
what  sort  of  a  discourse  will  it  be  1 


PRESENTIMENT  OF  A  SUICIDE. 


9 


3. 


PRESENTIMENT  OF  A  SUICIDE. 

Tuesday,  November  'iOth,  1845. 

Returning  from  my  customary  walk  this  morning,  I 
chanced  to  meet  a  large  crowd  of  Irish  women  and 
children  in  the  highest  state  of  excitement.  A  by¬ 
stander  said  they  were  nonsensically  quarreling  and 
fighting  because  one  of  the  women  had  in  a  lit  of  anger 
kicked  another’s  barking  cur  down  the  stairs.  But 
whatever  the  cause  of  the  disturbance,  the  row-loving 
inhabitants  ran  out  from  their  garrets  and  basements, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  the  street  was  so  crammed  with 
participants  and  spectators  that  the  police  had  to  inter¬ 
fere.  But  my  attention  was  by  some  means  attracted 
to  a  silent  and  sad-looking  aged  German  woman  stand¬ 
ing  on  the  opposite  sidewalk,  wrapped  in  an  old  worn- 
out  shawl,  her  once  rather  beautiful  features  disfigured 
by  disease  and  shriveled  by  poverty  and  despair.  As 
I  looked  at  her,  all  forgetful  of  the  great  fight  going  on 
about  the  kicked  dog,  I  saw  a  thick  mist,  resembling  a 
black  crape  veil,  drop  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  be¬ 
tween  her  face  and  the  outside  world !  “  Poor,  sad 

soul!”  I  instantly  thought,  “your  hours  on  earth  are 
numbered.”  The  recollection  of  her  unhappy  face 
haunted  me  all  the  rest  of  the  day.  Taking  up  a  re- 


10 


MEMORANDA. 


cent  morning  paper,  I  read  of  a  similar  case:  “An 
elderly  woman,  who  resided  with  her  two  sons  in  Hester 
Street,  committed  suicide  yesterday  afternoon  by  hang¬ 
ing.  The  act  was  committed  in  her  bedroom,  by 
means  of  a  piece  of  muslin,  which  had  been  torn  from  a 
sheet,  one  end  of  which  was  attached  to  a  hook  used  for 
hanging  up  a  looking-glass,  and  the  other  end  was  tied 
in  a  noose  around  the  neck  of  deceased.  When  discov¬ 
ered,  life  was  extinct.  The  coroner  being  notified,  pro¬ 
ceeded  to  the  house,  but,  one  of  the  sons  being  absent 
and  the  other  drunk,  he  was  unable  to  gain  any  particu¬ 
lars,  and  therefore  postponed  the  inquest  until  to-day.” 


4. 


VISIT  FROM  REV.  SOLOMON  SOBERTHOUGHT,  LL.  D. 

New  York,  December  4th,  1845. 

Restored  to  my  ordinary  state — from  the  ever-mys- 
terious  state  of  magnetic  physical  slumber,  which  with 
me  is  invariably  accompanied  by  a  peculiar  mental 
transformation — the  first  word  I  heard  spoken  by  a 
stranger  in  the  room  sounded  like  “ Anagosteleon” 

On  looking  around  the  parlor,  I  was  astonished  and 
embarrassed  because  of  the  great  number  of  strangers 
present,  mostly  patients,  or  applicants  for  treatment, 
as  I  supposed ;  and  among  them  was  a  stout,  red-faced, 
big-stomached,  ancient,  ecclesiastical  personage,  dressed 
in  black,  a  white  handkerchief  around  his  neck,  his 
scholarly  face  well-shaved,  and  his  nose  bearing  aloft  a 
pair  of  heavy  gold  spectacles.  “  The  boy’s  clairvoyance,” 


EXTRAORDINARY  MENTAL  PHENOMENA. 


11 


he  said,  addressing  the  gentleman  at  his  elbow,  “  is 
absolutely  of  no  importance.”  The  other  inquired, 
“  Did  the  boy  not  correctly  translate  the  words  ?  ” 
“  Tolerably,”  he  pompously  replied,  “  but  with  in¬ 
numerable  misspellings,  involving  awkwardness  of  ex¬ 
pression,  with  not  the  least  accuracy  as  to  the  street, 

house,  and  situation  of  the  furniture.” . 

Subsequently  I  asked  the  magnetizer  (Dr.  Lyon)  who 
it  was,  and  what  it  all  meant.  lie  said  the  gentleman 

was  Rev.  Dr.  G - ,  of  New  York,  who  came  with 

the  avowed  “  intention  ”  of  demolishing  clairvoyance 
as  a  monstrous  invention  of  the  devil.  The  Doctor  said 
that  I  answered  the  questions  of  the  round-counte¬ 
nanced  and  large-bodied  minister  in  a  foreign  language, 
either  Greek  or  Hebrew,  he  thought,  which,  at  the  time, 
the  distinguished  ecclesiastic  seemed  to  understand, 
for  his  questions  were  apparently  answered  by  me  in 
his  own  tongue ;  but  what  was  meant  by  the  word 
“Anagnostos,”  or  “  Anagosteleon ,”  which  he  pronounced 
erroneous,  I  did  not  learn.  This  large-bodied  clergy¬ 
man  represents  a  class  of  prejudiced  persons  who  resolve, 
before  investigation,  not  to  be  influenced  by  any  facts 
they  may  witness.  Such  visits  are  becoming  frequent. 


5. 


EXTRAORDINARY  MENTAL  PHENOMENA. 

24  Vesey  Street,  New  York,  January  13 th,  1846. 

The  Lectures  begin  to  excite  a  wide-spread  interest 
in  private  circles.  No  person  can  be  more  excited  with 


12 


MEMORANDA. 


curiosity  than  myself.  I  have  been  stationed  all  this 
morning  in  my  “  sleeping  chair,”  examining  diseased 
strangers — women,  men,  children,  whom  I  have  never 
seen  with  my  natural  ej^es,  and  may  never  meet 
again.  It  sometimes  seems  to  me  that  I  am  situated 
half-way  toward  the  center  of  an  unknown  world.  I 
suppose  that  all  this  magnetizing  for  years  is  for  some 
beneficent  purpose.  Possibly,  I  am  gaining  a  knowl¬ 
edge  of  something  which  no  other  pathway  could  lead 
to.  My  toil  does  not  weary  my  muscles,  like  the  cold 
and  dull  work  of  earth-plodders,  who  take  no  soul-in¬ 
terest  in  what  they  do  from  day  to  day.  Yet  a  dark¬ 
some  uncertainty  occasionally  envelops  my  mind,  which 
is  a  weariness  and  a  constraint ;  and  sometimes  I 
almost  wish,  with  a  good  deal  of  impatience,  that  the 
end  had  come. 

This  morning,  at  12,  m.,  when  the  Doctor  restored 
me  from  clairvoyance  to  full  bodily  wakefulness,  a 
friend  took  from  his  pocket  the  New  York  Tribune , 
bearing  to-day’s  date,  and  read  aloud  the  following 
letter,  written  by  the  honored  Scribe,  thus  : — 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Tribune : 

Induction  from  tangible  objects  in  the  external  world 
constituting,  as  it  does,  the  common  and  habitual  mode 
of  reasoning,  the  public  mind  is  naturally  disposed  to 
skepticism  respecting  alleged  phenomena,  the  causes  of 
which  are  not  directly  perceptible  to  the  senses.  At 
the  back  of  all  the  visible  operations  of  nature,  how¬ 
ever,  there  is  a  hidden  cause,  to  which  all  mechanical 
and  organic  causes  are  but  secondary  and  subordinate ; 
and  the  admission  of  this  undeniable  fact  should  open 


EXTRAORDINARY  MENTAL  PHENOMENA. 


IS 


our  minds  to  conviction  of  well-attested  phenomena, 
especially  as  connected  with  the  mysterious  economy 
of  mind — whether  these  do  or  do  not  agree  with  pre¬ 
vious  experience,  or  point  to  a  definite  and  adequate 
cause.  Philosophers,  for  instance,  have  never  succeed¬ 
ed  in  demonstrating  to  the  senses  any  theory  of  the 
cause  of  gravitation  /  yet  the  fact  undeniably  exists. 
Physiologists  have  never  demonstrated  the  cause  of 
natural  somnambulism ,  and  the  surprising  phenomena 
usually  attending  it ;  yet  these  facts  also  exist,  and  are 
acknowledged  by  all.  If,  then,  tangible  and  well- 
attested  instances  of  the  phenomena  known  as  Animal 
Magnetism  and  Clairvoyance  are  produced,  should  not 
these,  in  like  manner,  be  acknowledged  as  true,  even 
though  their  causes  could  not  be  directly  traced  ? 

These  considerations,  superadded  to  the  fact  that 
many  of  the  profoundest  thinkers,  both  in  this  country 
and  in  Europe,  have  been  forced  to  believe  in  the 
sciences  last  named,  will,  we  hope,  prepare  the  reader 
at  least  to  bestow  a  respectful  attention  upon  the  fol¬ 
lowing  statements,  to  test  the  truth  or  falsity  of  which 
we  earnestly  invite  the  most  searching  investigation. 

Mr.  A.  J.  Davis,  extensively  known  as  the  “  Pough¬ 
keepsie  Clairvoyant,”  is  among  the  very  few  persons 
in  the  world  whom  magnetism  places  in  a  state  entirely 
beyond  the  control  of  the  operator’s  will,  and  all  other 
influences  of  the  external  world.  In  the  less  perfect 
stages  of  magnetic  somnambulism,  the  mental  suscepti¬ 
bilities  are  so  enhanced,  and  the  imagination  is  so 
exalted,  as  to  give  the  vividness  of  real  fact  to  the 
mere  conceptions  of  fancy ;  and  hence  the  accounts  of 
such  clairvoyants  are  not  always  to  be  depended  upon 


14 


MEMORANDA. 


Mr.  Davis  explains  these  facts  in  his  clairvoyant  state, 
and  claims,  and  shows  by  a  process  of  connected  rea¬ 
soning,  that  he  is  in  that  highest  state  of  magnetism,  in 
which  the  physical  system  of  himself  and  that  of  the 
operator  form  one  being  in  all  its  magnetic  forces  ;  and 
that  the  vital  action  of  the  body  being  thus  sustained 
sympathetically  by  the  operator,  the  presence  of  the 
mental  essence  is  not  necessary  to  continue  these  func¬ 
tions  ;  and  that  hence  the  mind,  for  the  time  being,  is 
able  to  free  itself  from  the  organization,  and  to  view- 
existences  both  in  the  material  and  spiritual  world, 
with  that  unclouded  perception  with  which  they  would 
be  viewed  by  a  disembodied  spirit.  He  says  that  the 
state  in  which  he  is  placed  is  analagous  to  that  of  death 
— only  that  the  mind  is  still  connected  with  the  body  by 
an  exceedingly  rare  and  subtle  medium,  such  as  connects 
one  thought  with  another ;  and  by  the  same  medium, 
the  mind,  after  making  an  excursion  for  information, 
returns  to  the  body  to  communicate  its  impressions. 

I  will  not  trouble  you,  Mr.  Editor,  with  a  recital  of 
the  wonders  he  performs  while  in  the  clairvoyant 
state.  Suffice  it  to  say,  he  seems  to  have  access  to 
every  species  of  information.  The  human  system  par¬ 
ticularly,  it  would  seem,  is  perfectly  transparent  before 
him ;  and  his  examinations  of  its  condition,  and  pre¬ 
scriptions  for  its  diseases,  evince  a  clearness  of  percep¬ 
tion  and  accuracy  of  judgment  truly  surprising ;  and 
hundreds  have  experienced  the  benefits  of  his  treat¬ 
ment.  He  uses  the  technical  language  of  Anatomy 
and  Physiology,  and  with  the  whole  range  of  Materia 
Medica  he  seems  perfectly  familiar ;  though  in  his 
waking  state  his  acquirements  are  singularly  deficient, 


EXTRAORDINARY  MENTAL  PHENOMENA. 


15 


his  education  liaving  been  confined  to  five  months’ 
tuition  in  a  common  school  !  These  statements,  I 
grant,  would  at  first  view  appear  improbable ;  but  if 
not  true ,  they  will  be  publicly  contradicted  by  some 
one  of  the  numerous  persons  who  know  Mr.  Davis  in 
his  two  states. 

But  the  main  object  of  this  communication  is  to 
speak  of  a  course  of  Lectures  which  Mr.  Davis  is  now 
engaged  in  delivering,  while  in  the  clairvoyant  state, 
concerning  matters  pertaining  both  to  the  material  and 
spiritual  world.  These  are  delivered  in  the  presence 
of  Dr.  S.  S.  Lyon,  his  magnetizer,  24  Vesey  Street,  the 
writer  of  this,  who  reports  them  for  publication,  and 
one  or  more  of  three  witnesses,  appointed  to  be  present 
during  their  delivery,  that  they  may  testify  to  the 
medium  through  which  the  communication  is  given  to 
the  world.  These  witnesses  are  :  Rev.  J.  Parker,  129 
Avenue  D. ;  Isaac  S.  Smith,  M.  D.,  384  Broome  Street ; 
and  Mr.  Theron  R.  Lapham,  236  Canal  Street. 

Mr.  Davis  commences  his  work  by  a  description  of 
the  evils  which  have  in  past  ages,  and  which  do  still 
afflict  society,  and  shows  that  these  can  not  much  longer 
continue.  He  shows  that  the  remedy  of  these  will,  in 
general  terms,  consist  in  moral  and  intellectual  pro¬ 
gression.  He  opens  a  new  field  of  progress  in  estab¬ 
lishing  a  new  ground  of  reasoning.  He  clearly  and 
fully  establishes  the  important  conclusion,  that  the 
proper  reality  of  all  things  consists  in  an  inward  invisi¬ 
ble  pt'inciple ;  and  that  the  tangible  objects  of  the 
external  world  are  mere  transient  forms  which  this 
principle  has  assumed  as  its  effects  and  ultimates. 
He  clearly  and  intelligibly  explains  the  phenomena 


18 


MEMORANDA. 


wliat  good  there  is  in  this  overpowering  impressibility. 
It  often  makes  me  very  weary  and  strangely  anxious, 
as  though  I  had  on  my  heart  the  great  weight  of  the 
misery  of  whole  families  in  the  city.  I  am  perfectly 
willing  to  help  the  poor  and  unhappy  to  the  extent  of 
my  power  ;  but  I  can  not  consent  to  waste  my  strength 
in  feeling  without  benefiting  somebody.  Perhaps  this 
great  sensitiveness,  so  much  increased  of  late,  may  result 
in  something  useful. 


7. 


PROF.  GEORGE  BUSH  A2TD  EDGAR  A.  POE. 

Xett  Yop.k,  January  19,  1846. 

These  gentlemen  are  attracted  by  the  Scribe’s  recent 
article  published  in  the  T'riJjune.  It  is  said  that  they 
belong  to  that  wonderful  class  of  college-educated  per¬ 
sons  called  “literati?  But  to  me  they  are  simply 
human  beings — sacred  and  fearful,  as  is  every  thing  that 
represents  the  indestructible  qualities  of  the  human 
mind.  Prof.  Bush’s  face  shines  with  a  rare  religious 
emanation.  His  presence  causes  one  to  think  of  a  holy 
and  profoundly  learned  man  living  in  ancient  Jerusa¬ 
lem.  His  eyes  look  into  oriental  mysteries,  and  his 
voice,  although  not  unpleasant,  sounds  as  from  the  bot¬ 
tom  of  a  deep  well.  They  whisper  that  he  is  Professor 
of  Hebrew  in  the  University  of  Yew  York. 

Edgar  A.  Poe’s  personal  presence  conveys  me,  in 
feeling,  to  a  beauteous  fieid.  or  to  a  kind  of  blooming 
valley,  surrounded  by  a  high  wall  of  craggy  mountains. 


VISION  OF  A  MEDICAL  CLAIRVOYANT. 


19 


So  high  appear  these  mountains  that  the  sun  can 
scarcely  shine  over  their  summits  during  any  portion 
of  the  twenty-four  hours.  There  is,  too,  something  un¬ 
natural  in  his  voice,  and  something  dispossessing  in  his 
manners.  He  is.  in  spirit,  a  foreigner.  My  sympathies 
are  strangely  excited.  There  are  conflicting  breathings 
of  commanding  power  in  his  mind.  But  as  he  walked  in 
through  the  hall,  and  again  when  he  left,  at  the  conclu¬ 
sion  of  his  call,  I  saw  a  perfect  shadow  of  himself  in 
the  air  in  front  of  him.  as  though  the  sun  was  constantly 
shining  behind  and  casting  shadows  before  him,  causing 
the  singular  appearance  of  one  walking  into  a  dark  fog 
produced  by  himself. 


s. 

DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  VISION  OF  A  MEDICAL  CLAIR¬ 
VOYANT. 


Nfw  Toes.  March  10.  1S46. 

The  newspapers  and  magazines  are  teeming  with 
slashing  discussions  upon  the  subject  of  Magnetism 
and  Clairvoyance.  Miss  Martineau's  Letters  on  Mag¬ 
netism  give  the  materialistic  solution  of  all  these  per¬ 
plexing  mental  phenomena,  which  is  generally  received, 
showing  that  **  it  is  neither  imposture  on  the  one  hand, 
nor  a  revelation  on  the  other,"  The  religious  press 
is  unanimous  in  condemnation.  The  following  para¬ 
graphs.  from  the  pen  of  a  distinguished  magazinist.  em¬ 
bodies  the  theory  most  generally  accepted  at  this  time 
Vi.c..  twenty-two  years  ago),  and  it  is  doubtless  the  con¬ 
viction  of  many  at  all  times: — 


18 


MEMORANDA. 


what  good  there  is  in  this  overpowering  impressibility. 
It  often  makes  me  very  weary  and  strangely  anxious, 
as  though  I  had  on  my  heart  the  great  weight  of  the 
misery  of  whole  families  in  the  city.  I  am  perfectly 
willing  to  help  the  poor  and  unhappy  to  the  extent  of 
my  power ;  but  I  can  not  consent  to  waste  my  strength 
in  feeling  without  benefiting  somebody.  Perhaps  this 
great  sensitiveness,  so  much  increased  of  late,  may  result 
in  something  useful. 


7. 


PROF.  GEORGE  BUSH  AND  EDGAR  A.  POE. 

New  York,  January  19,  1846. 

These  gentlemen  are  attracted  by  the  Scribe’s  recent 
article  published  in  the  Tribune.  It  is  said  that  they 
belong  to  that  wonderful  class  of  college-educated  per¬ 
sons  called  lil$teratiT  But  to  me  they  are  simply 
human  beings — sacred  and  fearful,  as  is  every  thing  that 
represents  the  indestructible  qualities  of  the  human 
mind.  Prof.  Bush’s  face  shines  with  a  rare  religious 
emanation.  TIis  presence  causes  one  to  think  of  a  holy 
and  profoundly  learned  man  living  in  ancient  Jerusa¬ 
lem.  His  eyes  look  into  oriental  mysteries,  and  his 
voice,  although  riot  unpleasant,  sounds  as  from  the  bot¬ 
tom  of  a  deep  well.  They  whisper  that  he  is  Professor 
of  Hebrew  in  the  University  of  Hew  York. 

Edgar  A.  Poe’s  personal  presence  conveys  me,  in 
feeling ,  to  a  beauteous  field,  or  to  a  kind  of  blooming 
valley,  surrounded  by  a  high  wall  of  craggy  mountains. 


VISION  OF  A  MEDICAL  CLAIRVOYANT. 


19 


So  high  appear  these  mountains  that  the  sun  can 
scarcely  shine  over  their  summits  during  any  portion 
of  the  twenty-four  hours.  There  is,  too,  something  un¬ 
natural  in  his  voice,  and  something  dispossessing  in  his 
manners.  He  is.  in  spirit,  a  foreigner.  My  sympathies 
are  strangely  excited.  There  are  conflicting  breathings 
of  commanding  power  in  his  mind.  But  as  he  walked  in 
through  the  hall,  and  again  when  he  left,  at  the  conclu¬ 
sion  of  his  call,  I  saw  a  perfect  shadow  of  himself  in 
the  air  in  front  of  him,  as  though  the  sun  was  constantly 
shining  behind  and  casting  shadows  before  him,  causing 
the  singular  appearance  of  one  walking  into  a  dark  fog 
produced  by  himself. 


8. 


DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  VISION  OF  A  MEDICAL  CLAIR¬ 
VOYANT. 


New  York,  March  10,  1846. 

The  newspapers  and  magazines  are  teeming  with 
slashing  discussions  upon  the  subject  of  Magnetism 
and  Clairvoyance.  Miss  Martineau’s  Letters  on  Mag¬ 
netism  give  the  materialistic  solution  of  all  these  per¬ 
plexing  mental  phenomena,  which  is  generally  received, 
showing  that  “it  is  neither  imposture  on  the  one  hand, 
nor  a  revelation  on  the  other.”  The  religious  press 
is  unanimous  in  condemnation.  The  following  para¬ 
graphs,  from  the  pen  of  a  distinguished  magazinist,  em¬ 
bodies  the  theory  most  generally  accepted  at  this  time 
(i.e.,  twenty-two  years  ago),  and  it  is  doubtless  the  con¬ 
viction  of  many  at  all  times: — 


20 


MEMORANDA. 


“  Coleridge  preserved  the  anecdote  of  an  ignorant  Dutch  charm 
bermaid,  who,  when  suffering  from  delirium,  raved  in  excellent 
Hebrew,  to  the  religious  wonderment  of  all  the  simple  neighbors. 
They  thought  the  woman  seized  with  ‘the  gift  of  tongues,’ 
until  some  scientific  visitors  explained  the  miracle  by  tracing  her 
former  domestication  with  a  worthy  clergyman  who  used  to  read 
Hebrew  aloud  in  his  study,  while  his  female  servant  dusted  his 
books  of  a  morning.  It  was  then  agreed  by  the  wiser  ones,  that 
the  mechanical  impressions  daguerreotyped  upon  the  girl’s  senses 
in  former  years,  were  simply  reproduced  by  congestion  of  the 
brain  (just  as  the  flame  brings  out  letters  traced  with  lemon 
juice  on  paper,  thus  hinting  at  the  properties  of  a  more  appall¬ 
ing  kind  of  fire),  even  as  we  have  attempted  to  show  how  such 
images  may  recur,  when  commenting  upon  Admiral  Beaufort’s 
letter  in  a  late  number  of  this  journal. 

“  The  most  startling  phenomena  of  mesmerism,  as  now  admit¬ 
ted  by  all  intelligent  observers  to  have  a  real  existence,  are,  to 
our  satisfaction  at  least,  traceable  to  and  explainable  by  the  solu¬ 
tion  which  these  anecdotes  offer  to  a  most  interesting  problem. 
The  testimony  to  the  sympathetic  influence  of  one  brain  upon 
another,  in  certain  conditions  of  the  system  of  the  operator  and 
patient,  can  not  at  this  day  be  set  aside ;  but  the  testimony  as  to 
any  new  impressions  which  were  not  before  in  the  brain  of  the 
operator  or  patient,  manifesting  themselves  from  the  mind  of  the 
latter  when  in  an  abnormal  condition,  stands  by  no  means  upon  the 
same  indisputable  grounds  of  evidence.  The  phenomena  of  the 
one  case,  though  not  yet  brought  within  the  acknowledged  pale 
of  science,  have  been  known  to  scientific  men  for  ages.  The  pre¬ 
ternatural  claims  in  the  other  case,  though  not  less  old,  have  in 
every  instance  been  set  aside  when  carefully  examined  by  the  en¬ 
lightened  physiologist.  Nor  do  we  think  that  clairvoyance  has 
necessarily  any  connection  with  the  well-accredited  phenomena  of 
catalepsy  as  a  natural  malady,  or  as  artificially  produced  by  what 
is  called  mesmerism.” 


The  hypothesis  that  clairvoyance  is  simply  a  repro¬ 
duction  of  mental  impressions,  is  overthrown  by  a  fact 


VISION  OF  A  MEDICAL  CLAIRVOYANT. 


21 


which  has  just  been  made  public.  The  clairvo)Tant  disa¬ 
grees  with  the  surgeons  concerning  the  position  and  in¬ 
side  dependencies  of  a  tumor  on  her  own  shoulder-blade. 
Her  perceptions  are  proved  correct,  and  the  tumor  is  ex¬ 
tracted  while  she  is  physically  unconscious  under  the 
magnetic  influence.  The  whole  case  is  familiarly  re¬ 
ported  by  a  correspondent  to  the  Telegraph,  as  follows: 

I  see  there  is  a  good  deal  about  human  magnetism 
in  the  Telegraph ,  especially  in  the  last  number,  and  not 
a  few  hesitate  about  believing  all  of  it.  Such  things  do 
appear  strange;  but  then  the  mystery  is,  that  people 
have  not  become  acquainted  with  these  natural  powers  of 
the  human  system  before  ;  and  that  they  are  so  unwill¬ 
ing  to  believe  the  vast  amount  of  evidence  that  is  being 
accumulated  on  this  subject.  But  the  philosophy  of 
the  phenomena  has  nut  been  satisfactorily  explained  ; 
and  we  are  so  constituted  as  to  be  strongly  inclined  to 
disbelieve  what  we  can  not  account  for :  unless  the  evi¬ 
dence  of  its  existence  comes  to  us  through  such  a  me¬ 
dium  as  to  leave  no  room  for  the  possibility  of  deception. 
And  some  of  its  developments  are  so  very  wonderful, 
and  exhibit  capabilities  of  mind  so  far  beyond  what  has 
been  heretofore  considered  the  scope  of  the  human  intel¬ 
lect,  that  I  should  hardly  write  such  facts  as  come 
under  my  observation,  were  it  not  for  the  expectation 
that  some  editor  will  ere  long  exhibit  the  rationale  of 
the  whole  thing;  in  such  a  light  as  to  leave  it  as  clear 
from  mystery  as  the  most  simple  manifestations  of  ani¬ 
mated  beings. 

A  few  days  since  I  was  at  Mr.  Tuttle’s,  in  Byron, 
Genesee  Co.,  whose  wife  has  created  no  little  excitement 
by  her  wonderful  clairvoyant  powers,  which  have,  for  the 


22 


MEMORANDA. 


most  part,  been  manifested  in  examinations  of  diseases, 
and  prescriptions  for  them  ;  and  I  shall  now  give  you 
something  of  an  account  of  her,  and  her  opinions  in 
this  department.  You  are  aware  that  I  called  upon 
them  last  November,  when,  for  the  purpose  of  witness¬ 
ing  her  powers,  I  had  her  make  an  examination  of  my¬ 
self,  which  she  did  to  perfection,  commencing  with  the 
first  causes  of  ill-health,  and  tracing  their  effects  upon 
the  system  up  to  that  time ;  mentioning  particularly 
the  time  when  the  effect  of  too  severe  application  to 
study  obliged  me  to  leave  school  with  blighted  hopes 
and  dark  prospects.  Satisfied  with  her  knowledge  of 
the  to  us  unperceivable  works  of  the  human  system,  I 
requested  a  remedy  ;  and  have  used  it  since  with  quite 
as  much  benefit  as  she  promised,  and  such  as  to  open  a 
door  of  hope  for  the  future  which  had  for  a  long  time 
been  pretty  much  closed. 

The  commencement  of  her  clairvoyant  operations 
was  entirely  accidental,  or  providential,  she  having  been 
at  first  magnetized  for  a  different  purpose,  and  having 
no  expectation  nor  desire  for  that  celebrity  which  is 
beginning  to  result  from  it ;  having  been,  as  she  said, 
brought  up  in  Tonawanda  swamp,  and  desiring  to  live 
and  die  in  the  neighborhood  of  her  nativity,  unknown 
beyond  the  narrow  circle  of  her  early  acquaintance.  But 
being  afflicted  with  a  large  tumor  upon  the  left  shoul¬ 
der,  which  it  was  necessary  to  have  removed,  she  was 
magnetized  for  that  purpose  by  Mr.  Joseph  C.  "Walker, 
who  was  at  the  time  engaged  in  teaching  the  common 
school  in  the  vicinity.  Among  her  first  clairvoyant 
developments  was  a  statement  respecting  the  position 
of  some  parts  of  the  tumor,  in  which  she  disagreed  with 


VISION  OF  A  MEDICAL  CLAIRVOYANT. 


23 


the  surgeons,  which  she  could  not  have  known  from 
sensation,  and  which  proved  to  be  correct  when  the 
operation  was  performed.  This  was  done  while  she 
was  in  the  magnetized  state,  and  without  pain,  though 
the  tumor  was  from  two  to  three  inches  in  extent,  and 
fast  to  the  shoulder-blade,  which  was  scraped,  to  insure 
the  complete  removal  of  all  possible  remnants  of  the 
tumor.  On  being  awakened,  this  arm  was  left  para¬ 
lyzed,  and  it  was  some  time  before  she  became  conscious 
of  what  had  been  done,  she  having  been  told  before  be¬ 
ing  magnetized  that  the  operation  was  to  be  performed 
the  next  day,  which  was  done  to  prevent  her  from  being 
agitated,  as  this  might  have  prevented  a  good  sleep : 
but  on  coming  into  this  condition  she  immediately  un¬ 
deceived  herself,  and  told  the  hour  at  which  Dr.  Coates 
would  arrive,  and  the  object  of  his  visit.  This  was  on 
the  17th  of  February,  1846.* 

She  in  this  state  prescribed  the  treatment  for  the 
wound,  and  also  for  her  friends  who  wished  her  to  do 
so ;  but  this  brought  her  in  contact  with  the  interests 
of  certain  professional  men,  who,  because  their  craft 
was  in  danger,  took  all  possible  methods  to  destroy  her 
influence,  and  who,  finding  all  other  means  insufficient, 
hesitated  not  themselves,  or  by  instigating  others,  to 
attack  that  character  for  virtuous  integrity  which  all 
noble-minded  females  prize  above  all  price.  But  dis- 

*  Although  twenty-two  years  have  elapsed  since  this  test-case  of 
clairvoyance  was  reported,  I  have  the  pleasure  to  record  that  I  am  per¬ 
sonally  acquainted  with  the  celebrated  clairvoyant,  Mrs.  Tuttle,  and  with 
her  excellent  magnetizer,  Mr.  J.  C.  Walker  (my  wife’s  half-brother),  and 
can  testify  that  her  powers  are  giving  daily  satisfaction  to  the  sick  who 
apply.  Her  address  is  as  above. 


24 


MEMORANDA. 


creet  in  the  manner  of  transacting  their  business,  the 
family  exhibited  no  flaw  upon  which  the  approaching 
demon  of  slander  could  rest  his  polluted  and  polluting 
foot ;  and  with  full  confidence  in  the  noble  nature  of 
the  mission,  and  in  the  ultimate  triumph  of  truth, 
they  kept  steadily  on  their  course,  bravely  stemming 
the  strong  torrents  of  abuse,  obloquy,  scorn,  contempt, 
and  derision  with  which  the  enemies  of  magnetic  sci¬ 
ence  endeavored  to  overwhelm  them.  And  many  are 
those  who  are  and  will  be  thankful  that  they  did,  for 
numbers  are  the  cures  they  have  performed,  and  which 
are  being  performed,  through  Mrs.  T.’s  prescriptions ; 
many  of  which  cases  have  baffled  the  skill  of  all  medi¬ 
cal  practitioners,  and  for  the  cure  of  which  hope  had 
ceased  to  promise,  until,  by  the  aid  of  a  mind  in  its 
unclouded  independence  of  sensation,  the  nature  of  the 
diseases  were  pointed  out,  and  the  proper  remedies  pre¬ 
scribed. 

And  in  her  examinations  and  prescriptions  it  matters 
not  whether  the  patients  be  present  or  absent,  nor 
whether  they  send  by  their  friends  or  by  letter — all  that 
is  necessary  being  the  knowledge  that  some  person, 
somewhere,  is  desirous  of  being  favored  with  such  in¬ 
formation  and  advice  respecting  his  health,  as  she  is 
capable  of  giving,  while  in  that  state  of  unclouded  vision 
in  which  the  wonderful  workings  of  vitality  become 
an  unsealed  book,  and  when  not  only  are  its  present 
operations,  but  its  past,  and  future,  spread  as  on  an 
open  page  before  the  mind.  That  she  does  perfectly 
read  the  history  of  disease,  hundreds  are  ready  to  tes¬ 
tify  ;  and  that  she  understands  what  remedies  are  suit¬ 
able,  very  many  of  these  are  equally  satisfied  by  having 


THE  EIGHTH  AND  NINTH  PLANETS. 


25 


used  them  with  success.  And  though  she  is  rather 
averse  to  explore  other  departments,  it  is  not  because 
they  are  any  the  less  clearly  discernable,  for  the  most 
subtile  works  of  the  mind  are  equally  manifest  to  her; 
so  that  the  most  secret  thoughts,  whether  present  or 
past,  are  as  clearly  manifest  to  her  as  if  transcribed  in 
the  plainest  characters.  It  is  therefore  useless  for  per¬ 
sons  to  attempt  to  play  a  game  upon  her,  for,  perceiving 
their  object,  she  is  sure  to  give  them  any  others  than  an¬ 
swers  with  which  they  could  be  pleased.  Kesting  upon 
the  consciousness  of  her  own  integrity,  and  standing  far 
above  the  petty  considerations  which  induce  the  grovel¬ 
ing  to  deceive,  she  disdains  to  say  aught  for  the  purpose 
of  convincing  those  who  are  unwilling  to  accord  to  her 
that  honesty  of  purpose  and  power  of  perception  of 
which  she  is  so  perfectly  conscious. 


9. 

DISCOVERY  OF  AN  EIGHTH  AND  NINTH  PLANET  BY  AN 
INTERIOR  LIGHT. 

252  Spring  Street,  New  York,  October  30,  1846. 

This  glorious  morning — the  beginning  of  a  great 
golden  autumnal  day — brought  one  of  our  patients,  a 
distinguished  Wall  Street  banker,  earlier  than  was  usual 
for  our  medical  examinations  to  commence.-  He  held 
in  his  hand  Mr.  Greeley’s  Tribune ,  which,  he  said, 
“  contained  a  very  interesting  letter  from  the  Scribe.’'1 
It  being  agreeable  to  all  present,  he  proceeded  to  read, 
as  follows : — 


2 


20 


MEMORANDA. 


To  the  Editor  of  the  Tribune  : — 

From  a  paragraph  in  the  Tribune  of  the  28th  ult.5 
credited  to  the  New  Haven  Palladium ,  and  bearing 
the  signature  “  O.”  (doubtless  Prof.  Olmstead),  I  learn 
that  news  has,  by  a  late  arrival  from  Europe,  been  re¬ 
ceived  at  Yale  College  of  the  actual  discovery  of  an 
eighth  planet !  It  was  first  discovered  by  M.  Galle,  of 
Berlin,  on  the  night  of  Sept.  23,  and  was  seen  at  Lon¬ 
don,  Sept.  30.  The  existence  of  this  body  was  inferred 
a  few  months  since  by  the  French  mathematician,  Le 
Verrier,  from  certain  disturbances  in  the  motions  of 
Uranus ;  but  the  announcement  of  this  inference  was 
not  made  in  this  country  before  some  time  in  May  or 
June  last. 

Not  to  deprive  the  discoverers  of  this  body  of  their 
deserved  honors,  and  with  no  attempt  to  excite  the 
marvelousness  of  your  readers,  I  would  say  that  the  exist¬ 
ence  not  only  of  an  eighth,  but  a  ninth  planet  was  dis¬ 
tinctly  announced  in  March  last.  I  will  explain  :  Your 
readers  were  informed,  some  time  since,  that  A.  J. 
Davis,  while  in  an  abnormal  and  exceedingly  exalted 
mental  condition,  is  engaged  in  the  dictation  of  a  book 
in  explanation  of  the  whole  structure  of  the  Universe, 
and  developing  that  knowledge  of  the  universal  laws 
of  Nature  on  which  can  be  based  an  organization  of 
society  on  principles  of  harmony  and  reciprocation, 
the  same  as  pervade  the  celestial  spheres.  His  abnor¬ 
mal  condition  (induced  by  the  manipulations  of  another 
person),  is  analogous  to  physical  death',  when  the 
spiritual  principle  is  free  from  its  shackles,  and  appears 
to  have  immediate  access  to  every  species  of  knowledge, 
and  the  reasoning  power  is  entirely  unclouded. 


tb  r  Kionnr  and  ninth  planets. 


27 


The  following  extracts  concerning  the  eighth  and 
ninth  planets  are  from  two  lectures  given  by  him,  one  on 
the  16th  and  the  other  on  the  17th  of  March  last.  In 
order  that  what  is  said  upon  the  planets  may  be  under 
stood,  it  is  necessary  to  precede  the  extract  with  a  few 
of  his  remarks  upon  the  sun  : — 

“  The  wonderful  sun  or  center  to  which  our  solar  system  be¬ 
longs,  may  be  understood  as  being  a  distant  and  extreme  planet 
of  another  system,  existing  prior  to  its  formation.  And  in  ac¬ 
cordance  with  the  general  plan  of  suns  and  worlds  in  the  uni¬ 
verse,  its  planets  and  satellites  may  be  considered  as  satellites  and 
asteroids  belonging  to  a  planet,  and  the  planet  as  belonging  to  a 
sun. 

“  The  constitution  of  the  sun  is  an  accumulation  and  agglomera¬ 
tion  of  particles  thrown  from  other  spheres ;  and  these  became 
united  according  to  the  law  of  mutual  gravity  and  inherent  and 
mutual  attraction.  Its  igneous  composition  contains  heat,  light, 
and  electricity,  the  successive  developments  of  all  primeval  mat¬ 
ter  existing  in  an  agglomerated  condition,  and  subjected  to  the 
general  and  universal  law  governing  all  matter.” 

After  explaining  the  rotary  and  orbicular  motion  of 
the  sun  (for  the  causes  of  which  he  accounts),  he  pro¬ 
ceeds  : — 

“  Therefore,  the  great  internal  portion  or  center  of  the  sun  is 
an  immense  body  of  liquid  fire,  evolving  successively  heat,  light, 
and  electricity,  as  developed  and  purified  particles  of  the  inte¬ 
rior  composition.  The  evolved  atmosphere  may  be  understood 
as  being  a  part  of  the  great  body, — still  an  emanation  of  the  in¬ 
ternal  by  reason  of  its  own  constitution.  This  atmosphere,  or 
immense  zone  of  nebulous  and  accumulated  particles-extended 
to  the  circumference  of  the  orbit  that  the  immense  planet  occu¬ 
pies  and  traverses  as  a  cometary  body.  This  is  one  more  planet 
than  is  now  known,  or  has  yet  been  detected  by  the  observations 
made  through  the  agency  of  the  most  powerful  symbol  of  the 
human  eye  (the  telescope). 


23 


memoranda. 


“Eight  planets  have  been  recognized  and  determined  as  nearlj 
beyond  all  doubt.  Still  the  eighth  and  ninth  are  not  recognized 
as  bodies  or  plarets  belonging  to  our  solar  system.  But  the  orbit 
that  the  last  one  occupies  was  the  extreme  circumference  of  the 
atmospheric  emanation  from  the  sun.” 

After  proceeding  with  various  remarks  upon  the 
laws  of  emanation,  condensation,  the  origin  of  rotary 
and  orbicular  motions,  the  progression  of  primeval 
planetary  matter  to  the  development  of  the  various 
(so  called )  elementary  substances,  &c.,  he  continues  : — 

“  The  ninth  planet,  or  cometarv  body,  being  composed  of  par¬ 
ticles  accumulated  by  the  motion  of  the  great  sun,  observed  the 
same  plane  by  the  same  specific  force,  but  assumed  a  station  in 
iccordance  with  its  magnitude;  and  obeying  the  laws  of  recipro- 
eal  gravitation,  it  occupied  its  assumed  orbit  at  a  distance  pro¬ 
portionate  to  its  rarity,  and  in  accordance  with  its  peculiar  con¬ 
stitution. 

“  The  eighth  planet  was  next  evolved,  observing  the  same 
general  law  of  motion  and  the  same  principles  of  formation ; 
and  was  situated  within  the  outer  merely  because  its  constitution 
was  more  dense  than  the  first  one  evolved.  Its  occupying,  there¬ 
fore,  the  station  and  sphere  thus  described,  is  only  in  harmony 
with  the  established  principles  of  gravitation,  and  general  and 
rotary  motions. 

“By  virtue  of  the  two  great  motions  which  the  sun  has,  the 
luccessive  formations  of  the  planetary  bodies  were  produced. 
As  the  eighth  and  ninth  planets  have  not  yet  been  recognized  as 
oelonging  to  our  solar  system,  there  can  be  no  conception  of  the 
Driginal  magnitude  and  diameter  of  the  sun,  as  including  its  ex¬ 
tended  atmosphere.” 

After  further  philosophical  remarks  upon  the  pecu¬ 
liar  elements,  conditions,  circumstances,  &c.,  &c.,  as 
engaged  in  the  formation  of  celestial  spheres,  he  says  : — • 

“  But  let  it  be  deeply  impressed,  that  the  peculiar  circum¬ 
stances  and  conditions  under  which  these  elements  may  be  situated 


THE  EIGHTH  AND  NINTH  FLANETS. 


29 


will  produce  corresponding  effects,  according  to  the  cause  which 
occasions  the  manifestation  of  such  consequences.  This  observa¬ 
tion  will  lead  to  a  proper  understanding  of  the  amount  of  heat 
and  light  which  the  eighth  planet  receives  from  the  sun.  The 
ultimate  discovery  of  this  celestial  body,  and  its  revolution  and 
diameter  being  specified,  will  contribute  greatly  to  the  interesting 
subject  of  astronomy,  particularly  when  the  aberrations  and  ro 
fractions  of  light  are  known  as  they  occur  between  it  and  the  sur 
around  which  it  revolves. 

“Its  density  is  four-fifths  that  of  water;  its  diameter  is  unne¬ 
cessary  to  determine.  Its  rotation  and  period  of  revolution  can 
be  inferred  analogically  from  the  period  that  Uranus  observes  in 
its  elliptic  and  almost  inconceivable  orbit.  The  atmosphere  of 
the  eighth  planet  is  exceedingly  rare,  containing  little  oxygen, 
but  being  mostly  composed  of  fluorine  and  nitrogen.  No  organic 
constitution  that  exists  upon  the  earth  could  exist  there  alive  for 
one  moment.  The  human  eye  would  be  a  useless  organ  ;  for  light 
there  is  of  such  a  nature  as  to  render  its  darkness ,  even  at  the 
darkest  period,  several  hundred  degrees  above  the  present  light 
emanating  from  the  sun !  It  has,  like  Uranus,  six  satellites.  These 
were  evolved  and  formed  by  the  two  motions  given  this  planet; 
the  farthest  from  the  primary  being  the  extent  of  its  original  com¬ 
position,  and  the  nearest  satellite  being  the  accumulation  of  dense 

atoms  near  the  planet . It  is  wholly  unfitted  for 

the  habitation  of  any  organic  constitution;  yet  life  will  ultimately 
cover  its  now  undisturbed  surfaces.” 

That  the  above  extracts  are  genuine,  satisfactory 
demonstration  can  be  given  to  any  one  who  may  re¬ 
quire  it.  Their  existence  in  manuscript,  as  a  part  of 
Mr.  Davis’s  course,  has  been  known  by  many  persons, 
and  whose  testimony  will  not  be  denied  by  any  who 
know  them.  The  lectures  have,  at  promiscuous  times, 
been  witnessed  by  I.  Kinsman,  No.  1  New  Street,  T. 
Lea  Smith,  M.  D.,  9  Murray  Street  (now  in  Bermuda), 
II.  (t.  Cox,  M.  D.,  Ti  White  Street,  Tlierou  Tt.  Lapham, 


30 


MEMORANDA. 


308  Stanton  Street,  B.  S.  Horner,  9  Murray  Street, 
and  others. 

In  the  same  manner,  Mr.  Davis  has  revealed  the 
formation,  constitution,  geological  developments,  in¬ 
habitants ,  &c.,  of  all  the  other  planets  of  our  system. 
Indeed,  his  book  aims  to  present  in  a  general  way,  a 
knowledge  of  the  constitution,  laws,  principles,  and 
developments  of  the  whole  universe.  He  displays, 
while  in  his  superior  state,  a  power  of  analysis  and 
generalization  perfectly  unparalleled  and  absolutely 
overwhelming;  though  while  in  the  normal  state  he  is 
almost  entirely  uneducated ,  and  he  is  now  only  about 
twenty  years  old.  If  these  are  facts  (and  if  not,  their 
falsity  should ,  mn,  and  will  be  exposed,  )the  reflecting 
mind  can  not  fail  to  recognize  tbe  unspeakable  import¬ 
ance  of  their  bearings.  The  only  rational  explanation 
of  this  psychological  phenomenon  is  that  which  Mr. 
Davis  himself  gives,  viz. :  that  his  mind,  while  in  the 
abnormal  state,  receives  the  influx  of  the  science  un¬ 
derstood  in  the  spiritual  spheres  with  which  his  mind 
associates. 

Wm.  Fishbough. 


io. 


ANNA  CORA  MOWATT  ON  THE  STAGE. 

New  York,  November  10,  1846. 

I  have  been  to  witness  a  performance  at  the  Park 
Theater,  in  which  this  siugularly  beautiful  and  spiritual 
lady  played  a  part.  She  moves  like  one  in  the  air,  so 


LETTER  FROM  PROFESSOR  BUSH. 


ol 


well-governed  and  graceful  are  all  her  bodily  expres¬ 
sions,  and  so  fresh  and  intelligent  are  all  her  concep¬ 
tions  of  the  part  she  is  to  personate.  .  .  While  passion¬ 
ately  portraying  the  profound  grief  of  the  character  she 
had  assumed,  and  at  the  very  moment  when  her  cheek 
grew  pale  and  bosom  heaved  with  the  fullness  of  agony 
and  despair,  1  had  the  happiness  to  behold  the  reality 
of  beautiful  influence  (spiritual)  descend  upon  her  face 
and  figure,  imparting  an  energy  and  a  marvelous  bril¬ 
liancy  to  her  action  and  personal  appearance,  the  effect 
of  which  everybody  in  the  theater  seemed  to  instantly 
recognize;  for  the  applause  immediately  was  universal 
and  enthusiastic.  .  .  It  seems  to  me  that  the  noble  sen¬ 
timents  and  profound  feelings  of  human  nature  attract 
appreciable  influences  from  the  invisible  sphere  whence 
emanates  “every  good  and  perfect  gift.” 


11. 


MAGNETIC  MARVELS  IN  NEW  YORK.— LETTER  FROM 
PROFESSOR  GEORGE  BUSH. 

New  York,  November  15,  1846. 

Professor  Bush’s  first  letter,  confirming  the  Scribe’s, 
is  published  to-day,  and  reads  as  follows : — 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Tribune : — 

The  account  given  in  the  Tribune  of  the  10th,  of  young 
Davis’s  announcement  of  the  existence  of  an  eighth 
planet  in  our  solar  system,  and  even  intimating  that  its 
elements  had  already  been  calculated  months  before 


32 


MEMORANDA. 


any  thing  was  known  of  the  fact  in  this  country,  must 
be  admitted  to  be,  in  any  mode  of  explanation,  exceed¬ 
ingly  remarkable,  especially  when  it  is  considered  that 
in  his  normal  state  he  knows  almost  nothing  of  astron¬ 
omy  or  of  any  other  science.  As  to  the  asserted  fact 
that  this  announcement  by  Mr.  Davis  was  made  in 
March  last,  I  can  testify  that  I  heard  it  read  at  the 
time  ‘  and  numerous  gentlemen  in  this  city  are  ready  to 
bear  witness  that  I  informed  them  of  the  circumstance 
several  months  before  the  intelligence  reached  ns  of  Lc 
Verrieds  d iscovery. 

This  fact  alone,  if  there  was  nothing  else  extraordi¬ 
nary  in  his  case,  would  offer  an  astounding  phenomenon 
to  the  world.  But  this  is  only  one  item  of  the  many 
marvels  which  distinguish  his  mesmeric  developments, 
and  with  which  the  public  will  in  due  time  be  made 
acquainted.  Circumstances,  which  it  is  unnecessary 
for  me  to  recite,  having  brought  me  into  a  peculiar  re¬ 
lation  to  his  revelations,  and  questions  being  almost 
daily  proposed  to  me  by  friends  respecting  them,  I 
am  induced  to  seek  the  opportunity  of  stating  through 
your  columns  that  my  forthcoming  work  on  the  “  Re¬ 
lation  of  the  Phenomena  of  Mesmerism  to  the  Doctrines 
and  Disclosures  of  Swedenborg”  will  contain  a  com¬ 
munication  addressed  to  me  by  Mr.  Davis,  written 
by  him  in  his  abnormal  or  ecstatic  state,  and  made  up  of 
a  series  of  quotations,  for  the  most  part  verbal,  from  a 
work  of  Swedenborg  which  he  had  never  read  !  The 
evidence  of  this  is  decisive  from  the  testimony  adduced, 
and  if  any  thing  is  lacking  on  this  score,  it  is  supplied 
from  the  fact  that  he  is  continually  giving  forth  in  his 
Lectures  matter  scientific,  historical,  theological,  and 
philosophical,  of  a  character  so  astonishing  as  to  make 


LETTER  FROM  TROFESSOR  BDSII. 


33 


entirely  credible  the  narrative  which  I  have  related. 
On  this  head  I  remark  as  follows: — 

“I  can  solemnly  affirm  that  I  have  heard  him  correctly  quote 
the  Hebrew  language  in  his  Lectures,  and  display  a  knowledge 
of  geology  which  would  have  been  astonishing  in  a  person  of  his 
age,  even  if  he  had  devoted  years  to  the  study.  Yet  to  neither 
of  these  departments  has  he  ever  devoted  a  year’s  application  in 
his  life.  I  can,  moreover,  testify  that  in  these  lectures  he  has  dis¬ 
cussed,  with  the  most  signal  ability,  the  profoundest  questions  of 
Historical  and  Biblical  Archaeology,  of  Mythology,  of  the  Origin 
and  Affinity  of  Language,  of  the  Progress  of  Civilization  among 
the  different  nations  of  the  globe,  besides  an  immense  variety  of 
related  topics,  on  all  which,  though  the  style  is  somewhat  faulty, 
the  results  announced  would  do  honor  to  any  scholar  of  the  age. 
even  if,  in  reaching  them,  he  had  had  the  advantage  of  access  to 
all  the  libraries  in  Christendom.  Indeed,  if  he  has  acquired  all 
the  information  he  gives  forth  in  these  lectures,  not  in  the  two 
years  since  he  left  the  shoemaker’s  bench,  but  in  his  whole  life, 
with  the  most  assiduous  study,  no  prodigy  of  intellect  of  which 
the  world  has  ever  heard  would  be  for  a  moment  to  be  compared 
with  him.  Yet  not  a  single  volume  on  any  of  these  subjects,  if  a 
page  of  a  volume,  has  he  ever  read,  nor,  however  intimate  his 
friends  may  be  with  him,  will  one  of  them  testify  that  during  the 
last  two  years  he  has  ever  seen  a  book  of  science  or  history  or 
literature  in  his  hand.  His  daily  life  and  habits  are  open  to  in¬ 
spection,  and  if  any  one  is  prepared  to  gainsay  in  any  point  the 
statement  now  made,  I  will  pledge  myself  to  make  a  recantation 
as  public  as  I  now  make  the  statement.” 

But  this  is  not  all;  I  say  moreover:  “In  this  state  I 
do  not  perceive  that  there  is  any  definable  limitation  to. 
his  power  of  imparting  light  on  any  theme  of  human 
inquiry,  lie  apparently  discourses  on  all  subjects  with 
equal  facility  and  correctness.  The  range  of  his  intui¬ 
tions  appears  to  be  well  nigh  boundless.”  Indeed  I  am 
satisfied  that,  were  his  mind  directed  to  it,  he  could 
2+ 


34 


MEMORANDA. 


solve  any  problem  in  any  science.  But  he  goes  simply 
as  he  is  led  by  supernatural  guidance.  On  this  head  I 
observe : — 

“The  manner  in  which  Mr.  D.’a  remarkable  gift  is,  so  to  speak, 
managed  and  overruled ,  is  no  less  extraordinary  than  the  gift  it¬ 
self.  It  is  uniformly  held  in  entire  subordination  to  some  im¬ 
portant  use.  He  submits  to  no  experiments  prompted  by  mere 
curiosity.  He  makes  no  revelations,  offers  no  advice,  expresses 
no  opinion,  which  would  in  any  way  give  one  person  an  undue 
advantage  over  another.  Though  evidently  possessing  in  his  ab¬ 
normal  state  supernatural  knowledge,  no  worldly  inducement  has 
the  least  effect  toward  persuading  him  to  exercise  it  for  any  pur¬ 
pose  which  would  not  conduce  to  the  good  of  the  whole.  The 
most  urgent  solicitations  have  been  made  to  him  to  aid  individuals 
in  the  accomplishment  of  schemes  of  private  interest,  but  all  in 
vain.  He  invariably  turns  a  deaf  ear  to  all  such  propositions. 
He  refuses,  because  he  says  it  would  not  he  right ,  and  because  it 
would  endanger  the  continuance  of  his  clairvoyant  power  for 
higher  and  holier  purposes. 

“  As  to  the  Lectures  in  which  he  is  engaged,  he  maintains  that 
their  grand  scope  aims  directly  at  the  regeneration  of  society ; 
that  a  great  moral  crisis  is  impending  in  this  world’s  history; 
and  that  he  is  selected  as  a  humble  instrument  to  aid,  in  a  par¬ 
ticular  sphere,  in  its  accomplishment.” 

Perhaps  the  most  astonishing  circumstance  connected 
with  these  developments  is  the  fact,  that  without  ever 
having  read  a  page  of  Swedenborg,  he  has  reproduced, 
in  the  course  of  these  Lectures,  the  leading  features  of 
his  Philosophy  of  the  Universe,  and  in  several  instances 
the  coincidence  is  all  but  absolutely  verbal.  Of  this  I 
give  a  striking  example  in  my  work.  Yet  Sweden¬ 
borg’s  philosophical  writings,  as  distinguished  from  his 
theological,  are  of  exceedingly  rare  occurrence  in  this 
country,  and  as  they  have  been  but  recently  translated 


LETTER  FROM  PROFESSOR  BUSH. 


35 


into  English,  and  as  the  exact  number  of  copies  im¬ 
ported  is  known,  as  also  in  whose  hands  they  are,  it  is 
easy  to  reduce  the  matter  to  a  moral  certainty  that  he 
has  never  consulted  one  of  them.  Indeed,  I  should 
feel  entirely  safe  in  offering  a  reward  of  one  thousand 
dollars  to  any  person  who  will  exhibit  evidence  that 
Mr.  Davis  has  ever  read  or  seen  a  copy  of  the  “  Prin- 
cipia,”  the  ‘‘Animal  Kingdom,”  or  the  “Economy  of  the 
Animal  Kingdom”  of  Swedenborg,  which  are  the  works 
containing  the  ideas  that  he  most  frequently  echoes 
in  his  Lectures.  He  has.  moreover,  in  several  instances, 
quoted  his  works  by  their  Latin  titles,  some  of  which 
are  not  known  to  be  in  existence  in  the  original  on  this 
side  the  Atlantic,  and  of  which  it  is  utterly  incredible 
that  he  could  previously  have  known  any  thing  at  all. 

Viewed  in  any  light  whatever,  the  case  of  this  young 
man  presents  a  problem  of  the  most  astounding  char¬ 
acter,  and  one  the  solution  of  which  will  be  seen  to  be 
indissolubly  involved  with  that  of  the  question  of  the 
truth  of  Swedenborg’s  alleged  revelations  of  the  spir¬ 
itual  world.  This  question,  I  am  persuaded,  can  not  be 
much  longer  staved  off  from  consideration.  It  is  press¬ 
ing  upon  the  general  mind  of  Christendom  in  every 
direction  with  an  urgency  that  can  not  be  resisted,  and 
there  are  a  calmly-awaiting  few  who  ask  for  no  assur¬ 
ance  beforehand  as  to  the  manner  in  which  the  question 
will  be  decided. 

Respectfully,  yours,  &c., 


Geo.  Bush. 


i>6 


MEMORANDA 


IS. 

VISIT  FROM  PROFESSOR  TAYLOR  LEWIS. 

232  Spring  Street,  New  York,  November  27,  1846. 

I  have  just  seen  the  particular  acquaintance  of  Pro¬ 
fessor  Bush.  They  have  been  long  associated  in  the 
study  and  inculcation  of  Oriental  Languages  and  Theo¬ 
logy.  They  arrived  together,  and  spent  some  time  in 
our  Examination  room,  talking  about  “mesmerism,” 
w  magnetism,”  “  second-sight,”  “  clairvoyance,”  and 
other  subjects  in  psychology  and  theology  that  I  do  not 
comprehend.  It  is  said  that  Professor  Lewis  teaches 
Greek  and  Latin  in  the  University  of  Hew  York,  and 
that  he  is  a  very  learned  and  distinguished  man.  He 
is  rather  small  in  stature,  and  not  personally  prepossess¬ 
ing  ;  his  head  is  large,  and  countenance  expressive  of 
erudition,  and  patient,  laborious  thoughtfulness.  He 
impresses  like  a  self-satisfied,  but  incessantly  meditative 
mind ;  capable  of  persistent  argumentation,  with  de¬ 
ficient  appreciation  of  another’s  rights ;  although  this 
fundamental  lack  would  be,  in  a  good  degree,  com¬ 
pensated  for  and  concealed  by  the  fiat  of  his  scholarly 
attainments . Somehow,  I  can  not  feel  per¬ 

sonally  attracted  to  the  distinguished  teachers  of  those 
unpronounceable  languages.  Perhaps  the  fault  is  in 


REVELATIONS  OF  MESMERISM. 


37 


myself — in  my  sense  of  ignorance  on  all  things  in  which 
they  are  chiefly  interested — in  my  lack  of  education. 
Yet  they  seem  to  be  as  impoverished  in  what  to  me  is 
Eternal  Truth  as  I  am  poor  in  what  they  deem  abso¬ 
lutely  indispensable  to  a  “  classical  education.”  What 
is  education?  And  who  are  the  truly  educated?  I 
wonder  whether  Professor  Lewis  will  investigate  the 
phenomena  of  mesmerism  and  clairvoyance.  .  .  . 

Some  patients  have  just  arrived.  The  doctor  is  coming 
to  ask  me  to  be  thrown  into  the  state  of  medical  clair¬ 
voyance.  I  shall  not  refuse,  for  the  condition  is  in¬ 
creasingly  attractive  to  me. 

O  V 


13. 


THOUGHTS  ON  THE  REVELATIONS  OF  MESMERISM. 

New  York,  December  25,  1816. 

It  seems  that  the  gentleman  who,  one  day  last 
year,  stood  at  the  elbow  of  Rev.  Dr.  Solomon  Sober- 
thouglit,  was  a  man  as  well  as  a  clergyman  ;  for,  judg¬ 
ing  from  the  following,  just  from  his  pen,  he  was  not 
crushed  by  the  assumption  of  elephantine  importance 
on  the  part  of  the  immense-bodied  ecclesiastic  ;  but  still 
lives,  and  what  is  better,  dares  to  think  and  investigate 
for  himself : — 

“  Good  St.  Paul  wrote  some  things  beside  revelations.  So 
may  Swedenborg  have  done;  so  may  Mr.  Davis  do.  Shall  I  then 
swallow  down  all  that  comes  from  either  of  them  ;  allowing  their 
claims  to  supernatural  vision  to  be  just,  simply  because  it  comes 
from  men  sometimes  inspired,  without  asking.  Is  it  true?  Is  it 


38 


MEMORANDA. 


in  accordance  with  known  principles  of  truth,  that  are  immuta¬ 
ble?  Does  it  correspond  to  the  All-Wise,  who  changes  not? 
Verily  not.  While,  then,  I  would  exercise  due  caution  against 
imposition  upon  the  one  hand,  I  would  welcome  with  open  heart 
and  mind  all  that  comes,  from  whatsoever  source,  in  the  name  of 
truth  and  right.  I  have  no  fear  of  innovations  or  revolutions. 
I  wish  we  had  more  of  them.  There  is  nothing  to  fear  from  the 
assumptions  of  any  one.  If  they  are  true,  they  will  be  substan¬ 
tiated  sooner  or  later;  if  they  are  false,  truth  will  not  suffer. 
Thus  much  in  regard  to  the  general  subject. 

In  relation  to  the  particular  revelations  of  Swedenborg  and 
Davis,  I  am  free  to  confess,  that,  to  me,  they  have  an  important 
bearing  upon  the  progressive  development  of  man.  I  have  long, 
in  common  with  many  others,  speculated  upon  the  probable 
capability  of  spirit  when  separated  from  the  body ;  whether  it 
wTould  survey  at  a  glance  an  infinite  extent,  and  know  in  a 
moment  infinitely  more  than  mortal  ever  conceived  of  here.  I 
loved  to  think  the  mind,  when  disrobed  of  its  earthly  covering, 
would,  like  the  bird  uncaged,  soar  away  on  joyous  wing,  to  revel 
in  those  exhaustless  stores  of  wisdom,  of  which  but  little  is  seen 
in  time  ;  and  I  shall  rejoice  whenever  any  evidence  is  presented 
that  goes  to  establish  this  favorite  idea,  though  I  can  hardly 
trust  myself  to  decide  upon  the  validity  of  testimony  in  which  I 
am  so  much  interested.  Swedenborg  assumed  to  have  had  re¬ 
vealed  to  him  the  manner  of  life  in  the  spirit  world.  He  claimed 
for  his  revelations  consistency  with  reason,  philosophy,  and  scrip¬ 
ture.  "Why,  then,  should  there  be  any  shrinking  from  an  investi¬ 
gation  of  his  claims?  Mesmerism  claims  to  unfold  the  hidden 
workings  of  creative  and  preservative  principles  in  matter  and 
spirit.  It  pushes  the  vision  of  the  clairvoyant  beyond  the  circle 
in  which  man  has  heretofore  moved — marks  out  a  new  orbit  for 
his  future  destiny,  and  bids  him  go  where  God  and  reason  lead 
the  way.  Why  should  godlike  beings  fear  or  hesitate  to  attempt 
to  follow  ?  If  there  is  a  mistake  at  the  bottom  of  the  whole  mat¬ 
ter,  somebody  will  find  it  out,  while  no  one  can  be  injured  by  it, 
if  calm  and  prudent.  If  there  is  not,  then  glorious  things  ar* 
spoken  of  the  City  of  our  God.  Who  will  take  possession?” 


SUBSCRIPTION  FOR  A  NEWSPAPER. 


39 


14. 


SUBSCRIPTION  FOR  A  COUNTRY  NEWSPAPER. 

New  York,  January  3,  1847. 

The  following  is  a  copy  of  a  letter  I  wrote  this  morn¬ 
ing  to  the  editor  of  a  little  newspaper  published  in  the 
country.  It  is  the  first  letter  I  ever  had  the  courage 
to  write  to  an  “editor.”  I  am  as  timid  about  it  as  a 
child,  but  I  shall  try  to  write  correctly,  and  say  what  I 
think : — 

Mr.  Editor: — With  pleasure  I  have  remarked  seve¬ 
ral  copies  of  your  casket  of  valuable  information. 

The  form ,  freedom,  and  freshness  of  Truth  are  capti¬ 
vating  to,  and  congenial  with,  my  reason,  and  to  my  su¬ 
preme  love  of  Nature  and  her  divine  soul !  But  for  the 
purpose  of  establishing  the  truth,  that  I  have  never  read 
a  book,  pamphlet ,  or  paper  treating  on  any  science,  or 
theology,  and  in  order  to  keep  my  mind  free  from  the 
immensity  of  the  first  and  the  contamination  of  the 
latter,  I  have  till  this  period  positively  refused  to  read 
or  subscribe  for  any  book  or  paper  published.  Inas¬ 
much  as  the  “  Lectures”  are  near  completed,  in  the  de¬ 
velopment  of  which  I  have  been  and  still  continue  to 
be  an  instrument  employed,  I  am  at  liberty  to  subscribe 
a  year  for  the  present  volume,  including  the  already 
published  numbers  of  your  paper. 


40 


MEMORANDA. 


I  have  been  three  years  engaged,  as  a  subject  of  hu 
man  Magnetism  or  Spiritual  sympathy,  and  in  some  of 
the  most  novel,  useful,  and  remarkable  departments  of 
terrestrial  and  celestial  science.  And  manifesting  a 
peculiar  interior  perception  of  external  objects  at  any 
distance,  or  truths  of  great  extent — comprehending, 
seemingly,  the  lowest  and  the  highest  creation  at  a 
glance— and  yet  naturally  I  am  unacquainted  with 
any  of  those  vast  and  marvelous  subjects  so  familiarly 
unfolded. 

I  am  aware  that  a  change  is  constantly  going  on 
between  my  natural  and  spiritual,  or  inner  and  outer 
being — one  imperceptibly  approaches  and  Aoavs  into  the 
other — an  elevation  of  the  faculties  and  an  unfolding  of 
their  innate  possessions,  which  caused  my  inferior  to 
ascend  to  my  superior  condition. 

To  Magnetism  I  owe  unspeakable  blessings ;  for  by  it  I 
have  been,  am  now,  and  shall  be,  I  trust,  a  useful  being 
to  the  conflicting  world  of  mankind.  If  I  can  be  this,  my 
existence  will  be  one  of  happiness  and  profit.  This  will 
be  determined  hereafter,  when  the  book  is  presented  to 
the  public,  and  then  the  truth  will  shine  forth  amid  the 
darkness  that  now  pervades  the  mental  world.  I  speak 
concerning  the  lectures  I  have  given  in  my  spiritual 
condition,  with  the  same  degree  of  wonder,  as  would 
any  person  uninformed  of  the  circumstances  ;  and  I  am 
seriously  devoted  to  the  interior  manifestation  of  beau¬ 
tiful  truths — feeling,  as  every  mind  should  feel,  a  su¬ 
preme  love  of  truth,  anxious  to  have  it  known  and  ap¬ 
plied,  the  result  of  which  will  purify,  unite,  and  elevate 
the  human  race.  Respectfully  yours, 

A.  J.  Davis, 


VISIT  FROM  A.  PHRENOLOGIST. 


41 


15. 

VISIT  FROM  A  PHRENOLOGIST. 

New  York,  January  16,  1847. 

I  begin  to  wonder  whether  the  science  (or  what  maj 
be  one  day  called  a  science)  of  magnetism,  and  its 
resultant  clairvoyance,  will  ever  be  delivered  of  false 
and  shameless  pretenders.  To-day,  a  man  called,  mak¬ 
ing  the  largest  professions  to  mesmeric  skill,  &c.  ; 
enough  to  disgust  any  common  mind  with  the  whole 
subject.  And  only  yesterday  a  phrenologist  visited  us 
for  the  purpose  of  examining  my  head.  He  showed 
his  “  small  bills  ”  as  well  as  his  self  conceit,  and  pointed 
out  a  sentence  which  he  understood  to  be  a  sort  of 
editorial  recommendation,  to  this  effect :  “  It  is  not 
long  since,  in  one  of  his  lectures  in  the  city  of  New 
Orleans,  and  also,  I  believe,  elsewhere,  a  peripatetic 
head-reader  demonstrated  his  ability  to  discover  a 
man’s  religious  tenets  by  the  developments  of  his 
bead  ;  he  could  thus  distinguish  an  Episcopalian  from  a 
Catholic,  a  Baptist  from  a  Methodist,  and  a  Presbyterian 
from  the  whole.  We  do  not  often  speak  respectfully 
of  traveling  phrenologists,”  &c.  But,  notwithstand¬ 
ing  this  “favorable  notice”  printed  on  his  programme, 
I  did  not  put  my  head  under  his  hands.  In  fact,  by 
experience,  through  great  and  painful  sensitiveness  to  per 


42 


MEMORANDA. 


sonal  conditions  and  conflicting  magnetisms.  I  am  con¬ 
strained  to  avoid,  as  far  a?  possible,  without  seeming  to 
be  absolutely  rude,  all  direct  contact  with  the  different 
individuals  I  meet  in  society. 

Tli ere  are  phrenologists,  however,  such  as  Prof.  O. 
S.  Fowler,  and  others  of  his  school,  in  Xassau  Street, 
for  whose  personal  qualities  and  reformatory  efforts  I 
entertain  the  profoundest  respect.  Possibly,  one  of 
these  days,  I  may  become  better  acquainted  with  the 
science  they  teach.  The  other  day,  when  I  met  Air. 
O.  S.  Fowler.  I  seemed  to  see  an  architect,  whose  plans 
are  large,  and  various,  and  desirable,  with  an  unusual 
number  of  windows  and  doors  in  his  proposed  super¬ 
structure.  but  either  lacking  the  suitable  building  ma- 
terial.  or  else  not  properly  and  congenially  assisted  by 
efficient  carpenters  and  masons. 


16. 


SEEING-  WITHOUT  THE  X A. TUBAL  EYES. 

Xew  Yoke,  January  18,  1847. 

In  order  to  show  that  the  spiritual  eye  can  read 
manuscript,  without  any  outward  contact,  and  inde¬ 
pendently  of  the  bodily  organs,  I  introduce  the  follow¬ 
ing  voluntary  attestation,  from  an  interesting  work, 
entitled,  “  Mesmer  and  Swedenborg,”  p.  179,  by  Prof 
George  Bush : — 

‘•And  what  is  remarkable,  although  I  had  my  manuscripts 
with  me,  from  which  I  wished  to  propose  certain  queries  relative 
to  the  correctness  of  my  interpretation,  I  found  I  had  no  need  to 


COMPLETION  OF  THE  LECTURES. 


43 


refer  to  it,  as  lie  was  evidently,  from  his  replies,  cognizant  of  its 
entire  scope  from  beginning  to  end.  though  all  the  time  closely 
bandaged,  and  unable  to  read  a  word  by  the  outward  eye.  This 
will  appear  incredible,  but  it  is  strictly  true.  I  had  no  occasion 
to  refer  to  a  single  sentence  in  my  papers;  for  it  was  evident 
that  he  was  in  possession  of  the  whole,  though  he  had  not  seen  a 
line  of  what  I  had  written,  nor  had  previously  known  of  the  fact 
of  my  writing  at  all.” 


IT. 


COMPLETION  OF  THE  CLAIRVOYANT  LECTURES. 

252  Spring  Street,  New  York,  January  25,  1S47. 

They  say  that  my  lectures  are  completed!  Well — 
I  do  not  feel  any  different.  With  the  Doctor  and  the 
Scribe  I  share  feelings  of  gratitude  to  the  Immortal 
Power  for  blessings  vouchsafed,  and  return  thanks  for 
the  truths  that  have  been  imparted  during  the  past  few 
months.  The  world’s  millions  know  almost  nothing  of 
these  remarkable  experiences.  A  lecture  would  last 
forty  minutes  or  longer,  and  the  book,  when  published, 
will  contain  one  hundred  and  fifty-seven  of  them.  The 
first  was  delivered  November  28,  1845,  and  the  last, 
January  25,  1847.  When  delivering  these  lectures, 
I  would  receive  impressions  from  the  invisible  world ; 
and  then,  with  my  natural  organs  of  speech,  I  would 
slowly,  distinctly,  and  audibly  deliver  them  to  the 
Scribe,  in  order  that  they  should  be  accurately  recorded. 
I  would  then  return  to  the  invisible  world  for  another 
impression. 

If  I  were  to  write  of  the  clairvoyant  in  the  third 
person,  I  should  say:  In  the  personal  appearance  of 


42 


MEMORANDA. 


eonal  conditions  and  conflicting  magnetisms,  I  am  con¬ 
strained  to  avoid,  as  far  as  possible,  without  seeming  to 
be  absolutely  rude,  all  direct  contact  with  the  different 
individuals  I  meet  in  society. 

There  are  phrenologists,  however,  such  as  Prof.  O. 
S.  Fowler,  and  others  of  his  school,  in  Nassau  Street, 
for  whose  personal  qualities  and  reformatory  efforts  I 
entertain  the  profoundest  respect.  Possibly,  one  of 
these  days,  I  may  become  better  acquainted  with  the 
science  they  teach.  The  other  day,  when  I  met  Mr. 
O.  S.  Fowler,  I  seemed  to  see  an  architect,  whose  plane 
are  large,  and  various,  and  desirable,  with  an  unusual 
number  of  windows  and  doors  in  his  proposed  super¬ 
structure,  but  either  lacking  the  suitable  building  ma¬ 
terial,  or  else  not  properly  and  congenially  assisted  by 
efficient  carpenters  and  masons. 


16. 


SEEING-  WITHOUT  THE  NATURAL  EYES. 

New  York,  January  18,  1847. 

In  order  to  show  that  the  spiritual  eye  can  read 
manuscript,  without  any  outward  contact,  and  inde¬ 
pendently  of  the  bodily  organs,  I  introduce  the  follow¬ 
ing  voluntary  attestation,  from  an  interesting  work, 
entitled,  “  Mesmer  and  Swedenborg,”  p.  179,  by  Prof 
George  Bush : — 

“And  what  is  remarkable,  although  I  had  my  manuscripts 
with  me,  from  which  I  wished  to  propose  certain  queries  relative 
to  the  correctness  of  my  interpretation,  I  found  I  had  no  need  to 


COMPLETION  OF  THE  LECT0RES. 


43 


refer  to  it,  as  lie  was  evidently,  from  his  replies,  cognizant  of  its 
entire  scope  from  beginning  to  end,  though  all  the  time  closely 
bandaged,  and  unable  to  read  a  word  by  the  outward  eye.  This 
will  appear  incredible,  but  it  is  strictly  true.  I  had  no  occasion 
to  refer  to  a  single  sentence  in  my  papers;  for  it  was  evident 
that  he  was  in  possession  of  the  whole,  though  he  had  not  seen  a 
line  of  what  I  had  written,  nor  had  previously  known  of  the  fact 
of  my  writing  at  all.” 


IT. 


COMPLETION  OP  THE  CLAIRVOYANT  LECTURES. 

252  Spring  Street,  New  York,  January  25,  1847. 

They  say  that  my  lectures  are  completed!  Well — 
I  do  not  feel  any  different.  With  the  Doctor  and  the 
Scribe  I  share  feelings  of  gratitude  to  the  Immortal 
Power  for  blessings  vouchsafed,  and  return  thanks  for 
the  truths  that  have  been  imparted  during  the  past  few 
months.  The  world’s  millions  know  almost  nothing  of 
these  remarkable  experiences.  A  lecture  would  last 
forty  minutes  or  longer,  and  the  book,  when  published, 
will  contain  one  hundred  and  fifty-seven  of  them.  The 
first  was  delivered  November  28,  1845,  and  the  last, 
January  25,  1847.  When  delivering  these  lectures, 
I  would  receive  impressions  from  the  invisible  world  ; 
and  then,  with  my  natural  organs  of  speech,  I  would 
slowly,  distinctly,  and  audibly  deliver  them  to  the 
Scribe,  in  order  that  they  should  be  accurately  recorded. 
I  would  then  return  to  the  invisible  world  for  another 
impression. 

If  I  were  to  write  of  the  clairvoyant  in  the  third 
person,  I  should  say:  In  the  personal  appearance  of 


46 


MEMORANDA. 


kind  would  not  be  justly  adequate.  There  have  been, 
and  are,  however,  a  few  others,  who  have  attained  a 
similar  perfeetion.  The  world  will  shortly  be  apprised 
of  a  triumph  of  clairvoyance  through  the  celebrated 
Mr.  Davis,  which  millions  will  be  totally  nnprepared 
for.  During  the  past  year,  this  uneducated,  unsophis¬ 
ticated,  and  amiable  young  man,  has  been  delivering 
verbally,  day  by  day,  a  comprehensive,  well-planned,  and 
extraordinary  book — relating  to  all  the  vast  questions 
of  the  age,  to  the  physical  sciences,  to  Nature,  in  all 
her  infinite  ramifications ;  to  man,  in  his  innumerable 
modes  of  existence ;  to  God,  in  the  unfathomable 
abysses  of  his  love,  power,  and  wisdom.  No  human 
author,  in  any  department  of  literature  or  science,  has 
ever  electrified  mankind  to  the  degree  that  the  elo¬ 
quent,  yet  simple  reasonings,  the  lofty  and  sublime  dis¬ 
closures  will,  that  constitute  this  great  compend  of 
universal  philosophy.  Perhaps  over  four  thousand 
different  persons  who  have  witnessed  him  in  his  medi¬ 
cal  examinations  or  in  his  scientific  discourses,  live  to 
testify  to  the  astonishing  exaltation  of  mind  possessed 
by  Mr.  Davis  in  his  abnormal  state.  The  two  new 
planets  of  our  system,  recently  conjectured,  were  de¬ 
scribed  in  Davis’s  manuscripts  fourteen  months  ago. 
I  have  seen  him  discoursing  in  a  most  angelic  man¬ 
ner  for  more  than  four  hours  in  succession.  The  above, 
his  first  and  least  work,  is,  I  believe,  nearly  ready  to  be 
issued. 


WAKING  CLAIRVOYANCE. 


47 


10. 

THE  MAGNETIC  SEPARATION. 

New  York,  April  10,  1847. 

I  have  an  indescribable  feeling,  amounting  almost  id 
melancholy,  that  this  day  ends  my  magnetic  relations  to 
the  kind-hearted  operator.  A  voice  from  the  sacred 
mountain  sounds  the  prophecy  in  my  spirit’s  ear.  What 
is  before  me  as  a  person,  or  what  I  am  hereafter  to 
accomplish  for  the  world,  I  have  not  the  least  notion. 
But  my  reliance  upon  the  supremacy  and  triumph  of 
truth  is  profound  and  immovable.  Besides,  I  have  a 
sovereign  staff  in  my  soul,  invisible  to  my  operator,  and 
equally  unknown  to  all  my  personal  friends,  with  which 
I  alone  may  journey  into  the  hidden  future. 


20. 

SEEING  CLAIRVOYANTLY  WHILE  IN  A  STATE  OP  BODILY 
WAKEFULNESS. 

Poughkeepsie,  May  16,  1847. 

To-day  I  begin  a  new  psychological  and  personal 
career !  As  I  supposed,  a  magnetizer  will  be  no  longer 
a  necessity.  But,  Oh,  how  careful  must  be  my  employ* 


MEMORANDA. 


48 

ment  of  this  faculty  !  I  now  begin  to  understand  what 
Swedenborg  meant  when  he  wrote: — 

“  There  are  two  kinds  of  visions,  differing  from  those  which 
are  ordinarily  experienced,  and  which  I  was  let  into,  only  that  I 
might  know  the  nature  of  them,  and  what  is  meant  by  its  being 
said  in  the  Word  that  they  were  taken  out  of  the  body,  and  that 
they  were  carried  by  the  spirit  into  another  place.  As  to  the 
first,  viz.,  the  being  taken  out  of  the  body,  the  case  is  this:  Man 
is  reduced  into  a  certain  state,  which  is  mediate  between  sleeping 
and  waking;  when  he  is  in  this  state  he  can  not  know  but 
that  he  is  wholly  awake,  all  his  senses  being  as  much  awake 
as  in  the  most  perfect  state  of  bodily  wakefulness,  not  only 
those  oi  sight  and  hearing,  but,  what  is  surprising,  that  of 
touch,  also,  which  is  then  more  exquisite  than  it  is  possible  for 
it  to  be  in  bodily  wakefulness.  In  this  state,  also,  spirits  and 
angels  are  seen  to  the  life,  and  are  also  heard,  and,  what  is  won¬ 
derful,  are  touched,  scarce  any  thing  of  the  body  then  interven¬ 
ing.  This  is  the  state  described  as  being  ‘taken  out  of  the  body,’ 
and  in  which  they  know  not  whether  they  are  in  the  body  or  out 
of  the  body.  I  have  only  been  let  into  this  state  three  or  four 
times,  just  in  order  that  I  might  know  the  nature  of  it,  and  that 
spirits  and  angels  enjoy  every  sense,  even  touch,  in  a  more  per¬ 
fect  and  exquisite  degree  than  that  of  the  body.  As  to  the  other 
kind,  viz.,  the  being  carried  by  the  spirit  to  another  place,  the 
nature  of  this,  also,  was  shown  me,  by  lively  experience,  but 
only  twice  or  three  times.  I  will  merely  relate  the  experience. 
Walking  through  the  streets  of  the  city,  and  through  the  country, 
and  being  at  the  same  time  in  discourse  with  spirits,  I  was  not 
aware  but  that  I  was  equally  awake  and  seeing,  as  at  other  times, 
consequently  walking  without  mistaking  my  way.  In  the  mean 
time  I  was  in  vision,  seeing  groves,  rivers,  palaces,  houses,  men, 
and  other  objects;  but  after  walking  thus  for  some  hours,  on 
a  sudden  I  was  in  bodily  vision,  and  observed  that  I  was  in  another 
place.  Being  greatly  amazed  at  this,  I  perceived  that  I  had  been  in 
such  a  state  as  they  were  of  whom  it  is  said  that  they  were  car¬ 
ried  by  the  spirit  to  another  place.  It  is  so  said,  because,  luring 


BEADING  BOOKS  AT  A  DISTANCE. 


49 


the  continuance  of  this  state,  there  is  no  reflection  on  the  length 
of  the  way,  were  it  even  many  miles;  nor  on  the  lapse  of  time, 
were  it  many  hours  or  days  ;  nor  is  there  any  sense  of  fatigue ; 
the  person  is  also  led  through  ways  which  he,  himself,  is  igno¬ 
rant  of,  until  he  comes  to  the  place  intended.  This  was  done 
that  I  might  know,  also,  that  man  may  be  led  by  the  Lord  with¬ 
out  his  knowing  whence  or  whither.” 


31. 


BEADING  THE  CONTENTS  OF  BOOKS  AT  A  DISTANCE. 

Poughkeepsie,  August  10,  1847. 

Professor  Bush  lias  been  most  cruelly  misrepresented 
and  constantly  assailed  for  the  indorsements  and  testi¬ 
monies  he  published  in  the  Tribune.  In  self-defense 
he  has  once  more  appeared  in  that  paper  as  follows : — 

“I  confess  myself  to  have  taken  a  deep  interest  in  this  develop¬ 
ment  from  the  outset,  principally  from  its  obvious  relations  with 
the  psychological  disclosures  of  Swedenborg,  apart  from  which  I 
am  confident  it  can  never  be  explained,  but  in  connection  with 
which  the  solution  is  easy  and  obvious.  The  modus  of  this  it  is 
not  my  purpose  at  present  to  dwell  upon;  whoever  forms  an  ac¬ 
quaintance  with  Swedenborg,  will  soon  find  himself  on  the  track 
of  solving  not  only  this,  but  all  other  psychological  problems. 
My  object  is  to  advert  to  a  particular  passage  in  the  Lectures,  and 
examine  its  bearings  upon  the  question  of  the  source  from  which 
the  information  given  by  the  so-called  ‘Clairvoyant’  was  derived. 
On  p.  587  he  has  entered  into  a  detailed  and  very  accurate  analy¬ 
sis  of  one  of  Swedenborg’s  scientific  works,  entitled  ‘  The 
Economy  of  the  Animal  Kingdom,’  in  2  vols.  8vo.  He  gives  a 
minute  account  of  the  scope  of  each  volume ;  and  he  could  not 
well  have  been  more  correct  had  the  volumes  been  open  before 
him  for  the  express  purpose  of  exhibiting  a  summary  view  of 
their  contents.  The  Lecture  containing  this  passage  I  heard  read 
3 


50 


MEMORANDA. 


shortly  after  its  delivery.  Tt  struck  me  as  very  remarkable,  as 
the  work  in  question  had  but  recently  arrived  in  this  country; 
and  I  was  confident,  from  various  reasons,  that  neither  Mr.  Dav;s 
nor  his  associates  could  have  seen  it.  I  put  several  interroga¬ 
tories  on  this  head,  and  received  the  most  positive  assurance  that 
they  had  not  only  never  seen  it,  but  had  never  even  heard  of  it. 
And,  as  a  proof  of  this,  on  the  part  of  the  scribe,  he  remarked 
that  he  had  noted  the  word  ‘  Economy’  as  probably  a  mistake, 
as  he  had  heard  of  a  work  of  Swedenborg’s,  entitled  simply 
‘The  Animal  Kingdom,’  which  was  translated  and  published  in 
England  a  year  or  two  before,  though  he  had  never  seen  it.  Yet 
this  he  supposed  to  be  meant. 

“  My  acquaintance  with  those  gentlemen  was  sufficient  to 
satisfy  me  that  their  disclaimer  on  this  score  was  entitled  to  im¬ 
plicit  belief ;  but,  as  I  was  aware  that  this  would  not  be  enough 
to  satisfy  others,  I  at  once  determined  to  institute  an  inquiry,  the 
result  of  which  should  put  the  matter  beyond  all  cavil.  I  saw 
clearly  that  if  it  could  be  shown  that  this  young  man  had  given  a 
correct  account  of  a  work  which  neither  he  nor  his  associates 
had  ever  seen  or  heard  of,  it  must  be  a  strong  point  gained  to¬ 
ward  confirming  the  truth  of  his  general  claim  to  pretei natural 
insight,  for  the  establishment  of  which  I  was  indeed  anxious,  but 
yet  as  subordinate  to  a  still  higher  interest. 

“I  accordingly  wrote  to  Mr.  0.  Clapp,  bookseller  in  Boston, 
whom  I  knew  to  be  the  only  person  in  this  country  who  imported 
Swedenborg’s  scientific  works  from  England.  They  are  there 
published,  not  by  individual  enterprise,  but  by  an  association, 
from  whom  all  the  copies  ordered  from  this  country  are  con¬ 
signed  exclusively  to  Mr.  C.  I  requested  him  to  give  me  from 
his  books,  as  far  as  possible,  a  detailed  account  of  the  disposal 
of  every  copy  he  had  sold,  as  my  object  was  to  ascertain  if  any 
one  of  them  could  be  traced  to  a  point  where  it  would  be  likely 
to  fall  into  the  hands  of  Mr.  Davis  or  his  companions.  Mr.  C. 
immediately  replied,  informing  me  of  the  number  of  copies  he 
had  imported,  which  was  not  large,  as  the  book  is  costly,  and  tire 
demand  limited  mostly  to  Swedenborg’s  adherents,  and  also  of 
the  direction  which  nearly  every  one  had  taken.  Of  these  there 


READING  BOOKS  AT  A  DISTANCE. 


51 


were,  in  all,  nine  copies  sent  to  this  city  to  Mr.  John  Alien,  of 
which  all  but  three  or  four  were  disposed  of  to  purchasers 
abroad.  Of  those  that  remained  in  the  city,  every  one  can 
be  traced  to  individuals  who  will  at  once  testify  that  they  have 
never  been  purchased,  borrowed  nor  consulted,  by  Mr.  Davis  or 
his  friends.  I  have  made  diligent  inquiry  on  this  head,  and  am 
perfectly  satisfied  that  it  is  morally  impossible  that  either  of  these 
gentlemen  should  have  had  access  to  any  one  of  the  copies 
owned  in  New  York. 

“Still,  I  am  perfectly  aware  that  this  statement  will  not,  of 
itself,  avail  to  overcome  the  rooted  incredulity  that  opposes  itself 
to  such  a  demand  upon  faith.  I  now  propose,  therefore,  to  put 
this  matter  to  a  much  more  summary  test,  by  applying  a  mag¬ 
net  of  the  highest  potency  in  drawing  out  truth,  as  well  as  other 
things,  from  all  weaker  affinities.  I  am  authorized  to  make  a 
bona  fide  offer  of  $500  to  any  person  who  will  produce  a  single 
iota  of  evidence,  properly  substantiated,  that  the  work  in  ques¬ 
tion  was  ever  seen,  heard  of,  consulted,  or  in  any  way  employed, 
by  either  of  the  gentlemen  above  mentioned,  up  to  the  time  of 
the  delivery  of  said  lecture  by  A.  J.  Davis.  I  simply  demand 
that  such  evidence  shall  be  clearly  and  unequivocally  made  out; 
and  I  pledge  myself,  upon  the  truth  of  an  honest  man,  that  the 
above  sum  shall  be  punctually  paid  over,  in  the  presence  of  wit¬ 
nesses,  to  the  person  who,  on  the  condition  specified,  shall  come 
forward  and  claim  it. 

“I  can  conceive  nothing  more  fair  or  decisive  than  this  propo¬ 
sition.  If  this  book  has  been  used  for  the  purpose,  it  must  have 
been  obtained  of  somebody.  It  is  not  easily  conceivable  that  such 
an  one,  if  knowing  to  the  fact,  should  have  any  motive  for  with¬ 
holding  it  sufficient  to  counterbalance  the  inducement  held  out  in 
the  present  offer  to  divulge  it.  A  refusal  to  impart  the  informa¬ 
tion  sought,  by  any  one  who  possesses  it,  can  scarcely  be  antici¬ 
pated,  except  upon  the  ground  of  complicity  in  a  grand  scheme 
of  imposture,  which  has  been  entered  into  by  a  knot  of  unprin¬ 
cipled  men,  with  a  view  to  palm  upon  the  public  a  work  charged 
as  being  of  a  ‘directly  undisguised  infidel  character.’  But  who 
are  these  men?  Who  can  be  named  as  possessing  a  copy  of 


52 


MEMORANDA. 


Swedenborg’s  work  that  would  be  likely  to  lend  either  it  or  him¬ 
self  to  such  a  contemptible  piece  of  chicanery?  Could  such  a 
man  have  any  motive  for  this  that  would  not  be  apt  to  yield  to 
the  certainty  of  pocketing  the  proffered  reward?  Has  he  more 
than  five  hundred  dollars’  worth  of  interest  in  bolstering  up  a 
pitiable  delusion,  which  will  be  sure  to  be  detected  in  the  end, 
and  cover  with  infamy  the  heads  of  all  concerned?  For  myself, 
I  am  satisfied  that  there  is  not  a  copy  of  the  ‘  Economy  of  the 
Animal  Kingdom’  in  the  city  but  is  in  the  hands  of  those  who 
have  the  profoundest  respect  for  Swedenborg  as  a  philosopher 
and  a  moralist;  and  no  such  man  could  be,  knowingly,  an  ac¬ 
complice  in  a  scheme  of  pretended  ‘  revelation,1  the  scope  of  a 
large  portion  of  which  is  directly  contrary  to  Swedenborg’s 
teachings.  What  supposition  more  absurd?  If  it  be  said  that 
such  an  one  might  have  come  into  the  junto  without  knowing 
precisely  what  would  be  the  issue,  or  what  use  would  be  made 
of  his  Swedenborgian  contribution,  the  fact  is  now  palpable  ;  he 
is  undeceived,  and  what  should  prevent  him  from  exposing  the 
outrageous  fraud,  especially  when  he  can  spread  the  plaster  of  a 
$500  note  over  the  sore  of  his  chagrin  ? 

The  truth  is,  this  whole  supposition  is  incredible  to  the  last 
degree.  There  is  not  a  person  in  the  community,  who  owns  a 
copy  of  Swedenborg’s  ‘  Economy,1  that  could  think  for  a  mo¬ 
ment  of  prostituting  the  book  or  himself  to  such  a  despicable 
fabrication  ;  and  I  repeat,  that  the  book  is  not  to  be  found  ex¬ 
cept  with  those  who  entertain  sentiments  in  regard  to  this  great 
and  good  man  that  would  utterly  preclude  connivance  at  any 
clandestine  procedure  of  the  kind  supposed.  Should  the  offer 
now  made — and  which  is  made  in  the  most  positive  good  faith — 
fail  to  elicit  any  response  contradictory  to  the  assumption  of  the 
book,  I  would  submit  to  every  candid  mind  whether  there  does 
not  arise  from  this  source  a  powerful  confirmation  of  its  general 
claims.  I  do  not  say  that  such,  considered  in  itself,  is  absolutely 
decisive.  But  it  must  surely  be  granted  that  it  affords  a  strong 
proof  of  a  collateral  kind.  The  numerical  count  of  probabilities 
is  vastly  on  the  side  of  the  theory  that  the  work  in  question  has 
not  been  seen,  if  a  generous  premium  fails  of  bringing  to  light 


PROF.  LEWIS  ATTACKS  PROF.  BUSH.  53 

the  least  evidence  to  the  contrary ;  and  yet,  if  the  assumption 
stands  good,  what  an  astounding  power  is  here  developed ! 
What  can  not  a  mind  bring  forth  which  is  thus  enabled  to  de¬ 
clare  the  contents  of  books  never  read  or  seen  ! 

“On  the  whole,  then,  I  venture  the  assertion  that  but  one 
conclusion  can  finally  be  rested  in  in  regard  to  the  circumstance 
I  am  now  considering.  Young  Davis  has  correctly  analyzed 
and  characterized  a  work  which  he  had  never  read  nor  heard  of. 
As  this  is  directly  claimed  to  be  the  fact,  so  it  is,  all  things 
weighed,  the  solution  which  is  attended  with  the  fewest  dif¬ 
ficulties.  No  other  than  presumptive  evidence  can  be  adduced 
against  it,  nor  will  any  other  be  attempted.” 


22. 

PROFESSOR  LEWIS  ATTACKS  PROFESSOR  BUSH,  AND  DE¬ 
NOUNCES  DAVIS’S  REVELATIONS. 

New  York,  August  15,  1847. 

The  battle  has  begun  !  I  have  just  heard  read  the 
following  very  extraordinary  letter  by  Professor  Lewis, 
teacher  of  Greek  and  Latin  in  the  University  of  New 
York : — 

To  the  Editor  of  the  New  York  Tribune : — 

At  the  first  announcement  of  the  pretended  revela¬ 
tions  of  Davis,  I  was  requested  by  some  friends,  who 
knew  that  I  had  thoroughly  examined  the  book  and 
was  familiar  with  the  circumstances  attending  its  pro¬ 
duction,  to  make  some  exposition  of  its  true  nature  and 
merits.  The  fact,  too,  that  it  had  been  deemed  worthy 
of  six  closely  printed  columns  of  commendation  in  the 
New  York  Tribune  would  also  seem  to  have  warranted 


54 


MEMORANDA. 


such  a  course.  It  was,  however,  judged  impossible  that 
the  boasted  intelligence  of  the  nineteenth  century  should 
be  deceived  by  a  work  carrying  on  the  very  face  of  it 
such  evidence  of  gross  imposture.  It  was  deemed  in¬ 
credible  that  a  book  abounding,  not  simply  in  philo¬ 
sophic  skepticism,  but  in  the  lowest  and  most  ribald  in¬ 
fidelity  of  the  school  of  Tom  Paine — an  authority  whence 
a  large  part  of  it  is  evidently  derived — could  obtain  any 
kind  of  countenance  from  a  Christian  community,  or 
from  any  persons  professing  the  lowest  known  form  of 
belief  in  the  inspiration  of  the  Holy  Scriptures. 

For  these  reasons  it  was  not  deemed  worthy  of  any 
extended  notice,  until  the  appearance  of  Professor 
Bush’s  indorsement  in  Friday’s  Tribune.  He  there 
speaks  of  it  as  a  “  work  justly  attracting  a  large  share 
of  public  attention  he  recommends  it  to  the  commu¬ 
nity  as  a  remarkable  production,  worthy  of  the  most 
unprejudiced  and  candid  examination;  he  exultingly 
speaks,  in  the  style  of  a  newspaper  puff,  of  its  remarka¬ 
ble  sale  of  nine  hundred  copies  in  one  week  ;  regards  this 
as  evidence  of  a  great  increase  of  faith  in  that  supernat¬ 
ural  revelation  which  denies  as  impossible  the  miracles 
and  resurrection  of  Christ;  and,  finally,  makes  a  most 
remarkable  manifestation  of  the  high  motives  which 
should  distinguish  the  scholar  and  the  philosopher— to 
say  nothing  of  the  Christian  teacher — in  suffering  him¬ 
self  to  be  the  channel  through  which  a  reward  of  five 
hundred  dollars  is  offered  to  any  man  who  will  swear 
that  he  has  ever  seen  Davis  reading  a  certain  book  of 
Swedenborg. 

This  gentleman  is  a  Professor  of  Hebrew  and  Bibli 
cal  literature,  and  a  scholar  and  a  writer  of  wide-spread 


PROF.  LEWIS  ATTACKS  PROF.  BUSH. 


55 


reputation.  This  alone  would  render  proper  a  notice 
of  his  communication  in  the  Tribune ,  even  if  there 
existed  no  other  reason.  He  is  also  a  professed  teacher 
of  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ;  and  this  fact,  too,  of  itself, 
would  justify  any  severity  of  language  which  we  have 
used  or  may  use  in  relation  to  his  strange  course  in  this 
matter.  Whatever  delusions  he  may  have  been  under 
in  the  commencement  of  this  business,  he  now  well  knows 
that  this  book  is  thoroughly  and  unblushingly  Infidel, 
in  any,  even  the  lowest,  sense  in  which  the  advocates  of 
the  loosest  form  of  Christianity  would  take  the  term. 
It  attempts  to  disprove  the  very  possibility  of  any  super¬ 
natural  revelation.  It  affirms  that  evil  or  sin  can  not 
possibly  have  any  existence.  It  not  only  denies  the 
supernatural  of  the  Old  Testament — some  of  the  Pro¬ 
fessor’s  school  might  think  this  only  a  legitimate  result 
of  their  doctrine  of  Progress — but  pronounces  false,  and 
even  affects  to  scoff  at,  all  the  miracles  of  the  Hew.  It 
denies  the  resurrection  of  Christ.  It  asserts  that  he  was 
simply  a  moral  reformer,  but  of  an  inferior  kind,  as  be¬ 
ing  one  who  understood  only  effects,  without  that  knowl¬ 
edge  of  causes  and  of  the  interior  of  things,  which  is  now 
made  manifest  in  these  revelations  of  Davis.  It  speaks 
of  his  illegitimacy,  and  describes  him  in  terms  of  infe¬ 
riority  to  Fourier.  It  asserts  that  Prophecy  and  Mira¬ 
cles  are,  in  the  very  nature  of  things,  impossibilities ; 
this,  to  be  sure,  by  a  most  absurd  and  ridiculous  attempt 
at  reasoning,  as  we  shall  show;  but  the  assertion  is  all 
with  which  we  are  at  present  concerned.  It  makes  out 
Christ  and  his  commissioned  Apostles  to  be  the  weakest 
of  all  deluded  enthusiasts,  or  the  most  wicked  of  impos¬ 
tors.  It  denies  all  human  accountability  to  any  higher 


56 


MEMORANDA. 


power  than  Nature.  It  affects  sometimes  to  be  witty, 
and  indulges  in  ribald  scoffing  at  the  claims  of  the  Scrip¬ 
tures,  and  the  sacred  feelings  which  are  associated  with 
them  in  the  believing  soul.  Every  one  of  these  posi¬ 
tions  we  will  prove  most  abundantly  if  Professor  Bush 
dares  to  deny  them.  He  knows,  too,  that  the  ribald 
objections  to  the  Bible,  and  especially  to  the  Gospels, 
which  appear  in  the  latter  parts  of  this  book,  are  iden¬ 
tical,  to  a  great  degree,  with  the  stale  and  oft-repeated 
blasphemies  of  Paine.  With  all  this,  he  still — a  pro¬ 
fessed  teacher  of  Christ’s  Gospel — not  only  patronizes 
and  encourages  this  avowedly  Infidel  production,  but 
has  done  more  than  all  other  agents  in  the  imposture 
combined,  to  give  it  currency  with  the  public. 

Prof.  Bush  may  reiterate  the  declaration  that  he  does 
not  indorse  the  absolute  truth  of  these  pretended  reve¬ 
lations  ;  that  he  only  views  them  as  a  remarkable  psy¬ 
chological  phenomena :  he  may  even  intimate,  as  he 
sometimes  seems  to  do,  that  the  contents  are,  to  some 
extent,  intrinsically  evil  and  false,  or  the  suggestions  ot 
evil  spiritual  agents — (certainly  he  must  consistently 
deem  them  such,  if  they  are  blasphemies  against  that 
Being  whom  even  he  must  in  some  sense  regard  as  his 
Redeemer,  and  whom  he  professes  to  preach  as  the 
light  of  the  world)— but  what  right,  we  ask,  has  he 
to  aid  the  circulation  of  a  work  of  the  devil,  whether 
that  work  be  in  the  extraordinary  way  of  a  direct  com¬ 
munication  with  the  spiritual  world,  as  claimed  by 
Fishbough  and  Davis,  or  through  those  ordinary  chan¬ 
nels  of  Satanic  suggestion,  which,  according  to  the 
universal  faith  of  the  Church,  the  devil  has  ever  em¬ 
ployed  in  instigating  men  to  acts  of  wickedness  and 


PROF.  LEWIS  ATTACKS  PROF.  BUSH. 


57 


imposture  ?  Suppose  it  is  one  of  Satan’s  lying  won¬ 
ders  ;  suppose,  as  the  Professor  has  himself  suggested, 
it  does  illustrate  the  remarkable  psychological  phenome¬ 
non,  that  the  spirit  of  Tom  Paine  is  yet  engaged  in 
injecting  his  infidel  ribaldry  into  this  world,  whenever 
he  can  find  a  clairvoyant  pipe  for  that  purpose ; — yet 
still,  what  right,  even  on  the  score  of  their  marvelous¬ 
ness,  has  a  Christian  teacher  to  be  puffing  the  devil’s 
books,  and  so  bravely  offering  $500  to  any  one  who  will 
prove  that  some  man,  and  not  the  devil,  wrote  them? 

But  this  argument  will  not  avail.  Whatever  Prof. 
B.  may  say  of  the  “sheer  sophistry”  of  confounding 
some  of  the  errors  of  the  volume  with  the  argument  for 
its  supernatural  origin,  yet  still  we  are  driven,  by  the 
very  laws  of  the  human  mind,  to  make  such  connection. 
Nature  teaches,  and  Christ  and  his  apostles  by  their 
own  course  have  sanctioned,  the  indelible  lesson,  that 
the  fact  of  the  “  astoundingly  supernatural  ”  accom¬ 
panying  a  revelation  professing  to  be  from  the  other 
world,  is  strong  evidence  of  the  intrinsic  truth  of  the 
revelation  itself.  Whenever  there  has  been  the  oppo¬ 
site  manifestation,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Egyptian  Ma¬ 
gicians  (if  there  was  in  this  instance  a  real  intercourse 
with  the  agencies  of  the  unseen  world),  there  has  ever 
been  the  higher  supernatural  triumphing  over  and  pre¬ 
venting  that  delusion  into  which,  without  such  aid, 
the  human  mind,  by  its  own  laws,  would  naturally  run. 

Prof.  Bush  has  not  yet  made  sufficient  progress,  con¬ 
sistently  to  believe  all  that  Davis  says  about  the  impos¬ 
tures  and  delusions  in  Christ’s  pretended  miracles ;  but 
he  accepts  of  almost  all  the  rest.  This  must  be  so,  or 
there  is  no  meaning  at  all  in  a  great  deal  of  the  reason 


5S 


MEMORANDA. 


ing  he  has  advanced  on  this  subject.  lie  believes  that 
in  the  case  of  Davis  there  has  really  been  most  stu¬ 
pendously  supernatural  manifestation,  a  knowledge 
and  use  of  languages  which  never  came  through  the 
senses,  or  memory,  or  the  reflective  powers,  or  any 
innate  ideas ;  nor  were  received  as  suggestions  from 
other  minds ;  and  yet  possessed  and  put  forth  as  the 
soul’s  own  consciously  recognized  furniture.  Has  the 
Professor  ever  seriously  reflected  on  the  astonishingly 
supernatural  nature  of  this  phenomenon,  fully  equal  to, 
if  not  transcending,  the  miraculous  gift  of  tongues  im¬ 
parted  as  evidence  of  the  truth  of  the  apostolical  mes¬ 
sage  ?....... 

The  subject  is  an  awfully  serious  one ;  and  yet  we 
can  not  well  conceive  of  any  thing,  in  the  nature  of  an 
argument,  mere  ridiculous  than  the  one  Prof.  B.  is  so 
fond  of  employing  in  relation  to  this  matter.  The 
work,  it  is  well  known  to  him,  denies  directly  the  au¬ 
thority  of  the  Scriptures,  both  Old  and  Hew  ;  it  blas¬ 
phemes  Christ  on  any  supposition  of  His  having  been 
specially  sent  by  God  ;  it  pronounces  His  miracles  im¬ 
postures  and  His  resurrection  a  fable ;  in  a  word,  it  is 
an  intrinsically  had  and  Infidel  book  ;  and  yet,  says  the 
Professor :  “  It  justly  attracts  public  attention,  and  is 
to  he  recommended  as  a  most  valuable  production,  be¬ 
cause  it  furnishes  evidence'of  the  existence  of  a  devil 
and  evil  spirits.”  What  is  more  wonderful  and  valua¬ 
ble  still,  it  thereby  confirms  the  Swedenborgian  hypoth¬ 
esis  in  relation  to  these  articles;  as  though  such  had 
not  been  the  faith  of  the  Christian  Church  in  all  ages, 
or  as  though  we  could  not  confidently  rest  on  what  is 
so  clearly  revealed  in  the  Old  and  Hew  Testaments, 


PROF.  LEWIS  ATTACKS  PROF.  BUSH. 


59 


without  the  confirmation  of  Swedenborg !  What 
crowns  the  absurdity  is  the  fact,  that  nothing  is  more 
vehemently  affirmed  by  Davis,  nor  more  strongly  held 
by  the  other  parties  who  are  united  with  Prof.  B.  in 
the  promotion  of  the  circulation  of  this  volume,  than 
the  non-existence  of  devils  and  evil  spirits,  and  the 
utter  absurdity  and  even  impossibility  of  any  such 
notions  having  an  objective  reality. 

There  can  be  only  three  possible  suppositions  in  this 
business :  1st.  The  book  is  true,  and  all  the  wonders  in 
relation  to  it,  extrinsically  and  intrinsically  ;  or,  2d. 
Davis  is  obsessed  by  evil  spirits,  who  make  him  the  pipe 
through  which  they  inject  into  this  world  their  lies  and 
blasphemies ;  or,  3d.  It  is,  from  beginning  to  end,  a 
shameless  and  wicked  imposture,  practiced  by  evil 
spirits  in  this  world,  and  for  most  wicked  ends.  The 
first  position  we  will  leave  to  the  marvelous  faith  of  the 
Infidel.  If  the  second  is  correct,  then  every  Christian 
man  who  has  renounced  the  devil  and  his  works,  and 
who  may  happen  to  have  the  volume  in  his  possession 
— having  at  the  same  time  no  better  method  of  keeping 
it  from  doing  harm  to  his  children  or  others — should 
immediately  throw  it  into  the  fire.  If  the  last  hypoth¬ 
esis  is  the  true  one,  then  all  concerned  in  this  nefa¬ 
rious  juggle,  and  attempt  to  obtain  money  by  false  and 
impious  pretenses,  should  be  forthwith  introduced  to 
the  acquaintance  of  the  Grand  Jury  and  District  At¬ 
torney. 

. The  writer  flourishes  away  with  his 

“  therefores ,”  and  his  “  it  follows and  “  it  is  perfectly 
clear  fi  &c.,  when  nothing  follows,  and  nothing  is  clear, 
and  nothing  is  proved  but  his  own  ignorance  and  im- 


no 


MEMORANDA. 


pudence.  He  seems  to  be  utterly  unaware  that  in  ad 
this  he  is  cheating  himself  with  his  own  terms,  ever 
assuming  the  very  thing  to  be  proved,  and  thus  going 
round  and  round  in  an  ever-revolving  treadmill,  in 
which  the  premises  may  continually  become  the  con¬ 
clusion  and  the  conclusion  the  premises,  and  from  which 
it  seems  impossible  for  him  ever  to  get  out.  The  very 
question  is — Is  there  a  power  above  Nature?  He  says 
no ;  because  if  so,  it  would  be  supernatural,  and  that 
which  is  supernatural  is  nothing;  therefore,  &c.,  &c. 
Had  he  had  sense  enough  to  understand  his  own  soph¬ 
istry,  he  might  have  made  it  look  better  by  going  a 
little  farther  back  with  his  assumed  position,  and  de¬ 
claring  that  Nature  is  an  end  in  itself ,  with  no  moral 
world  above  it.  Then  there  would  have  been  some 
shadow  of  ground  for  the  argument  that  its  processes 
are  unchangeable,  because  God  would  have  no  reason 
more  ultimate  for  ever  interfering  with  them.  As  it 
now  stands,  the  only  real  connection  of  thought  (if  it 
can  at  all  be  called  thought)  to  be  traced  in  this  cloud 
of  words,  may  be  simply  stated  thus  :  “  It  is  the  very 
nature  of  Nature  to  be  natural.  Whatever  is  natural, 
must  take  place,  because  every  effect,  or  thing  caused, 
comes  from  something  causing,  and,  therefore,  must 
occur,  because  it  is  caused  by  a  natural  instigation. 
Hut  alleged  miracles  are  supernatural ;  whatever  is 
supernatural  is  unnatural;  and  whatever  is  unnatural 
is  contrary  to  the  laws  of  Nature.  It  is,  therefore, 
utterly  unreasonable  lhat  a  miracle  should  take  place, 
and  every  one  who  is  acquainted  with  these  laws,  must 
at  once  conceive,  that  such  an  occurrence  is  entirely 
opposed  to  these  laws,  and  can  not  therefore  possibly 


PROF.  LEWIS  ATTACKS  PROF.  BUSH. 


61 


occur  (q.  e.  d.).”  Is  it  not  most  clearand  conclusive, 
and  quite  Swedenborgian  beside?  If  he  includes,  in 
his  word  nature,  God  and  the  moral  world,  by  such  an 
abuse  of  the  word  he  might  have  had  the  appearance 
of  some  more  coherency  of  reasoning,  but  then  his  very 
clear  conclusion  would  have  been,  that  that  which 
did  not  come  from  some  cause,  natural,  moral,  or 
divine,  never  could  have  been  caused  nor  existed.  In 
this  case,  however,  it  would  not  have  been  proved  that 
what  are  called  Christ’s  miracles  never  could  have 
taken  place,  but  only  that  they  are  excluded  from  his 
own  absurd  and  arbitrary  employment  of  the  terms 
natural  and  supernatural.  What  makes  this  the  very 
quintessence  of  all  foolishness,  is  the  fact,  that  while 
this  very  “  remarkable”  person  is  denying  the  miracles 
of  Christ,  on  the  ground  of  their  being  natural  impos¬ 
sibilities  which  no  rational  mind  can  believe,  or  even 
conceive,  he  is  asking,  on  his  own  assertion,  our 
credence  in  states  of  being,  and  manifestations  of  knowl¬ 
edge  far  more  wonderful  than  any  of  the  exhibitions 
of  Jesus  in  healing  the  sick  and  casting  out  devils,  or 
even  turning  water  into  wine.  He  utterly  denies  the 
very  possibility  of  prophecy  or  predictions  for  a  few 
centuries ;  yet  claims  to  know  by  intuition  facts  which 
took  place  fifty  thousand  years  ago,  and  actually  to 
have  predicted  discoveries  in  astronomy,  by  no  natural 
observations,  but  by  interior  light!  Another  marvel, 
greater  than  all,  is,  that  men  should  be  found  in  this 
nineteenth  century  of  progress,  and  a  Professor  of 
Hebrew  ^mong  them,  who  can  believe  all  this,  while 
they  find  it  so  hard  to  rest  on  the  martyr  testimony  of 
Jesus  and  his  apostles,  together  with  that  immense  mass 


62 


MEMORANDA. 


of  corroborating  evidence  which  has  been  accruing  in 
the  Church  for  ages  !  t.  l. 


33. 


A  POPULAR  NEW  YORK  EDITOR  REPLIES  TO  PROFESSOR 

LEWIS. 


New  York,  August  20,  1847. 

This  morning  a  friend  handed  me  the  New  York 
Sunday  Dispatch,  containing  the  following  rational 
remarks : — 

Professor  Lewis,  a  recognized  champion  of  the  Church, 
has  taken  up  the  cudgels  against  the  meek  and  lowly 
A.  J.  Davis,  and  says,  in  almost  so  many  words,  that 
the  shoemaker’s  apprentice  is  a  cheat ;  that  he  knows 
nothing  about  Latin,  Greek,  and  Hebrew  ;  and  that  the 
repi’oduction  of  Swedenborg’s  philosophy  through  him, 
is  the  result  of  a  conspiracy  which,  Professor  Lewis  in¬ 
timates,  Professor  Bush  is  the  master  spirit  of ! 

The  champion  of  the  Church  denies,  if  we  under¬ 
stand  him  right,  the  magnetic  influence  and  clairvoyant 
power,  notwithstanding  the  mass  of  evidence  adduced 
to  sustain  both.  Here  he  has  committed  a  blunder,  for 
which  he  deserves  to  lose  his  office  and  perquisites. 

Christianity  has ,  within  a  hundred  years ,  suffered 
more  from  the  stupidity  of  its  defenders,  than  from  the 
assaults  of  its  opponents.  The  churchmen,  fearful  of 
losing  their  influence  and  their  salaries^  have  looked 
with  jealous  eyes  upon  the  progress  of  scientific  knowl¬ 
edge.  Every  new  discovery  has  awakened  their  appre¬ 
hension  lest  it  should  overthrow  one  of  the  dogmas 


A  NEW  YORK  EDITOR  REPLIES.  b3 

of  their  faith,  and  weaken  the  others  in  the  public  be¬ 
lief.  . .  .  .  .  .  .  : 

Never  were  the  wrongs  of  the  laboring  classes — the 
oppressions  and  frauds  practiced  upon  them — placed  in 
a  bolder  light,  than  in  3d  Part  of  Davis’s  Revelations. 
Allowing  the  correctness  of  Professor  Lewis’s  favorite 
theory,  the  Devil  has  a  much  greater  sympathy  for 
suffering  humanity  than  we  have  ever  given  him  credit 
for. 

The  positions  of  the  three  learned  professions — Law, 
Medicine,  and  Divinity,  are  then  analyzed.  The  interest 
of  each  of  these  great  and  noble  professions  is  shown 
to  be  contrary  to  the  interests  of  society,  so  that  these 
must  inevitably  prevent  nearly  all  philanthropic  action. 

Thus  it  is  actually  for  the  interest  of  every  lawyer, 
that  there  should  be  discord,  contention,  fraud,  violence, 
and  crime  in  every  community. 

It  is  for  the  interest  of  every  doctor  that  there  should 
be  violations  of  sanitary  laws,  sickness,  pain,  distress, 
immorality,  and  vice. 

And  it  is  for  the  interest  of  clergymen,  that  people 
should  be  docile,  obedient,  superstitious — believing 
what  they  are  taught,  and  exercising  no  independence 
of  opinion. 

For,  were  people  all  honest  and  peaceful,  there  would 
be  little  need  of  lawyers. 

Were  all  so  intelligent  and  virtuous  as  to  regard  the 
laws  of  life,  there  would  be  little  need  of  doctors. 

And,  should  all  men  exercise  the  right  of  private 
judgment  in  matters  of  faith,  there  would  be,  at  all 
events,  fewer  preachers. 

Thus,  the  interests  of  the  members  of  these  powerful 


64 


MEMORANDA. 


professions  are,  according  to  the  work  we  are  noticing, 
antagonistic  to  the  interests  of  society — and  in  regard 
to  lawyers  and  doctors,  we  suppose  it  will  scarcely  be 
denied. 


24. 

MORE  GUNS  PROM  THE  FORTIFICATIONS  OF  ORTHO¬ 
DOXY. 


New  York,  August  24,  1847. 

The  editor  of  one  influential  city  journal  replies  to 
another  editor,  thus : — 

The  Commercial  Advertiser ,  of  this  city,  with  an  ap¬ 
parent  anxiety  to  forestall  opinion  on  the  subject  of 
“  Davis's  Revelations,”  gave,  early  in  the  week,  a  notice 
of  a  full  column  in  length,  which  was  of  so  queer  a 
character  as  to  deserve  some  comment.  The  Commer¬ 
cial  says,  literally  or  in  substance : — 

1.  This  is  so  large  a  book  that  we  have  not  read  it, 
and  shall  not. 

2.  It  is  absurd  and  ridiculous. 

3.  It  is  incomprehensible. 

4.  It  is  dangerous. 

5.  It  teaches  materialism. 

6.  It  teaches  infidelity. 

7.  It  is  false. 

Finally,  the  Commercial  is  astonished  that  so  many 
respectable  men,  both  clergymen  and  laymen,  should 
have  given  their  names  and  influence  to  such  a  book. 

It  strikes  us  that  this  is  a  droll  piece  of  criticism  to 
come  from  such  a  paper.  We  are  forced  to  look  upon 


65 


THE  “  COMMERCIAL  ADVERTISER.’’ 

the  writer  of  such  a  criticism  as  this  as  an  arrant  bl  >ck- 
head  ;  a  blockhead,  for  saying  so  much  of  a  book  he  had 
not  read ;  a  blockhead  for  calling  a  thing  dangerous 
which  he  had  already  pronounced  absurd  and  ridiculous ; 
and  a  very  great  blockhead  for  pretending  to  tell  what 
doctrines  are  taught  by  a  book  which  he  has  pronounced 
incomprehensible  without  reading  ! 

If  this  is  a  sample  of  the  criticisms  of  such  papers  as 
the  Commercial ,  the  fewer  the  better. 

So  much  for  the  first  gun,  which  begins  the  battle 
which  is  about  to  rage  against  this  remarkable  work. 


25. 

THE  CLAIRVOYANT’S  BOOK  AND  THE  “COMMERCIAL 
ADVERTISER.” 

New  York,  September  2, 1847. 

I  am  more  and  more  surprised  at  the  great  war  that 
is  raging  among  editors.  The  following  review  has 
just  come  into  my  hands  : — 

We  are  too  wrell  assured  of  the  interest  connected 
with  the  remarkable  work  above  mentioned,  to  fear  that 
our  readers  will  grow  weary  of  a  discussion  of  its  merits. 
We  know  too  well  what  hold  such  a  book  must  have 
upon  the  mind  of  every  intelligent  person,  not  to  be 
convinced  that  there  is  no  subject  with  which  we  could 
occupy  our  columns  to  more  advantage.  Whatever 
may  be  the  ultimate  conclusion  of  the  world  in  respect 
to  this  work,  there  can  be  no  question  of  the  importance 
of  its  pretensions. 

The  Commercial  Advertiser,  a  few  days  since,  under 


06 


MEMORANDA. 


the  head  of  “  Religious  Intelligence,”  contained  a  second 
attack  upon  this  work,  of  a  column  and  a  half  in  length, 
some  points  of  which  we  propose  to  notice. 

The  Commercial  says  : — 

“  A  revelation  having  already  been  made  to  man  from  the  Di¬ 
vine  Being  himself,  as  is  unanswerably  demonstrated  by  both  fact 
and  argument,  no  subsequent  revelation  from  an  inferior  being 
can  be  received  by  men  as  authoritative.  The  minor  can  not  over¬ 
rule  the  major,  the  inferior  ihe  superior.  What  God  has  revealed 
neither  men  nor  angels  may  gainsay,  qualify,  improve  upon,  or  add 
to ;  when  the  Source  of  all  being  has  made  known  his  law,  the 
profoundest  investigations  of  the  highest  order  of  created  intelli¬ 
gences,  with  their  influences  and  conclusions,  are  of  no  account 
whatever,  and  are  lighter  than  the  small  dust  of  the  balance.” 

The  Commercial  refers,  we  suppose,  to  the  Bible — 
which  is  a  collection  of  the  revelations  of  various  indi¬ 
viduals,  supposed  to  he  more  or  less  inspired,  and  in 
which  one  adds  to  another,  and  the  New  Testament 
overrules  the  Old,  as  certainly  as  the  Gospel  has  dis¬ 
placed  the  Law.  Such  a  revelation,  then,  complete,  in¬ 
disputable,  and  satisfactory,  has  never  existed.  What¬ 
ever  may  be  thought  of  the  Bible,  in  other  respects,  it 
must  be  conceded,  that  men  can  not  understand  it  alike, 
and  that  it  does  not  impress  itself  upon  men’s  minds,  as 
the  clear  and  direct  revelation  of  the  Supreme  Intelli¬ 
gence.  A  direct  revelation  from  God,  could  not  be 
mistaken  by  those  for  whom  it  was  intended. 

The  Commercial  then  narrows  the  question  to  this  : — 

“  Is  Mr.  Davis’s  book  a  revelation  from  God,  or  is  it  not  ?” 

We  should  answer  :  it  is  rather  a  revelation  of  God — 
than  from  him.  God  is  revealed  in  his  works,  aud  it  is 


THE  “  COMMERCIAL  ADVERTISER.”  67 

these  works  which  are  revealed  in  the  book  in  question. 
The  truths  of  Astronomy,  of  Geology,  of  Natural  His¬ 
tory,  are  revelations,  and  of  necessity,  truthful  revela¬ 
tions,  of  the  Supreme  Being. 

Defining  further  what  a  revelation  is,  or  should  be, 
the  Commercial  says  : — 

“What  it  reveals  must  be  authentic,  a  dictum,  an  absolute, 
authoritative  making  known  of  the  truth.  It  can  take  no  cog¬ 
nizance  of  falsehood,  and  enter  into  no  controversy.  A  revelation 
from  such  a  source  can  not  argue.  The  moment  it  does  so,  it  ceases 
to  he  a  revelation. 

If  this  rule  be  applied  to  the  Bible,  it  is  fatal  to  its 
claims  as  a  revelation ;  for  there  is  scarcely  a  book  be¬ 
tween  its  covers,  which  does  not  contain  arguments  of 
all  kinds.  Where  is  to  be  found  a  more  elaborate 
reasoner  than  St.  Paul,  or  a  more  pointed  one  than 
Christ  himself  ?  The  Commercial  says: — 

“  An  argumentative  exposition  of  that  which  is  professedly  re¬ 
ceived  by  revelation  from  the  great  source  of  truth,  volunteered 
by  the  relator,  is  indeed  an  anomaly — it  disproves  either  the  rela¬ 
tor’s  avowed  instant  perception  of  the  truth,  or  his  confidence  in 
the  perception  of  the  source  whence  he  professes  to  have  re 
ceived  it. 

How  any  one  believing  in  the  inspiration  of  Paul  and 
Peter,  could  make  such  a  sweeping  assertion,  passes 
our  comprehension.  But,  in  reality,  the  revelations 
of  Davis  have  a  wider  scope  than  this  critic  seems  to 
understand.  He  reveals  not  only  processes  of  nature, 
but  processes  of  thought.  He  does  not  merely  say,  God 
exists,  but  he  reveals  a  process  of  logical  reasoning, 
which  demonstrates  that  sublime  fact.  And  this, 
though  an  argument,  is  no  less  a  revelatior  because 


68 


MEMORANDA. 


that  Davis  in  his  natural  state  is  quite  incapable  of  con¬ 
ceiving  of  such  an  argument.  Thus,  this  is  a  revelation 
not  merely  to  the  credulity  of  man,  but  to  his  reason, 
and  such  a  revelation  must  be  argumentative  and  logical 
in  the  highest  degree.  Such  a  revelation  as  the  Com¬ 
mercial  describes  is  only  tit  for  those  who  are  incapa¬ 
ble  of  reasoning.  The  Commercial's  objection  to  this 
work,  therefore,  seems  to  us  one  of  its  highest  merits. 

The  Commercial  insists  that  the  evidence  of  the  re¬ 
ality  of  this  revelation  is  not  sufficient.  The  evidence 
is  not  only  superior  to  that  connected  with  any  other 
revelation  that  we  know  of,  but  is  of  the  most  absolute 
character.  The  names  of  some  fifty  to  a  hundred 
persons  now  living,  as  witnesses  of  this  revelation,  are 
subscribed  to  its  manuscripts. 

These  are,  many  of  them,  persons  of  high  standing, 
and  all  men  whose  evidence  is  good  in  any  Court  of 
Justice.  Have  we  any  such  evidence  as  this  of  the 
genuineness  of  St.  John’s  gospel,  which  is  doubted  by 
profound  theologians?  This  will  not  do.  The  evi¬ 
dence  in  regard  to  Davis’s  revelations,  is  complete  and 
overwhelming. 

The  Commercial' s  next  objection  is,  that  these  reve¬ 
lations — 

“  Professing  to  come  directly  from  the  ‘  focus  ’  of  truth,  have 
no  feature  in  common  with  a  prior  revelation  proved  to  have 
emanated  from  the  same  source.” 

The  writer  of  this  sentence,  it  appears,  has  not  read 
the  work  which  he  is  criticising ;  for  Davis  reveals, 
among  other  things,  the  degree  of  truth  and  authority 
which  belongs  to  all  prior  revelations,  and  shows  how 


PAitKE  Godwin’s  opinion. 


69 


for,  and  in  what  sense  they  can  he  said  t:  have  ema¬ 
nated  from  the  same  source. 

The  intimation  of  the  Commercial ,  that  this  work  ab¬ 
solutely  contradicts,  assails,  and  denies  the  whole  Bible, 
from  Genesis  to  Revelations,  and  impinges  the  honesty 
and  veracity  of  each  of  its  writers,  from  Moses  to  St. 
John,  is  a  falsehood  of  the  grossest  character  j  and 
proves  conclusively,  either  that  the  writer  of  the  arti¬ 
cle  has  not  read  the  book,  or  that  he  is  a  deliberate 
falsifier  ! 

In  short,  the  whole  column  and  a  half  of  this  “  reli¬ 
gious  intelligence  ”  of  the  Commercial  is  a  tissue  of 
misrepresentations  and  falsehoods  ;  the  offspring  of  inex¬ 
cusable  ingorance  or  of  a  disregard  of  moral  principle, 
which  we  refrain  from  characterizing  in  such  terms  as 
seem  to  us  necessary  to  convey  a  proper  idea  of  its 
baseness. 

The  case  of  attempted  imposition  on  Davis,  by  a 
clergyman,  to  which  the  Covimercial  alludes,  is  of  little 
importance,  and  is  susceptible  of  a  very  simple  explana¬ 
tion.  Besides,  a  clergyman  who  would  lie  to  Davis, 
would  lie  to  any  body  else,  and  is  not  worthy  of  credit. 


36. 

PARKE  GODWIN’S  OPINION  OF  THE  BOOK. 

Poughkeepsie,  September  19,  1847. 

A  gentleman  has  just  called  to  read  and  leave  with 
me  the  following  paragraph,  taken  from  an  influent. <tl 
New  York  journal : — 


70 


MEMORANDA. 


Parke  Godwin,  Esq.,  of  this  city,  a  son  in-law  of  "Wil 
liam  Cnllen  Bryant,  and  long  associated  with  him  in 
the  management  of  the  Evening  Post  ;  an  author  of 
deserved  celebrity ;  a  translator  of  some  of  the  great¬ 
est  works  that  ever  appeared  in  the  German  language ; 
in  a  word,  a  gentleman  of  fine  taste  and  distinguished 
ability,  in  a  letter  published  in  the  London  People's 
Journal ,  says  of  this  work  of  Davis,  that  “  it  is  writ¬ 
ten  with  great  coherence  and  profundity” — that  it 
“  unfolds  a  true  method  of  reasoning  which  any 
reader  will  confess  is  ingenious  and  profound  ” — that  it 
contains  “  the  most  rigid  and  unflinching  logic  — and 
that  “  as  a  mere  work  of  speculation,  to  consider  it  in 
no  other  light,  it  is  of  the  highest  interest  — that  it  is 
an  “  extraordinary  work  in  every  light  in  which  we  may 
regard  it  — that  “  it  displays  astonishing,  almost  pro¬ 
digious  powers  of  generalization and  Mr.  Godwin 
asserts  that  hundreds  of  the  most  respectable  and  sound- 
minded  men  in  this  city,  are,  after  deliberate  inquiry 
into  all  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  most  profoundly 
convinced  of  the  claims  of  this  work  as  the  unaided 
production  of  Davis  while  in  a  state  of  mesmeric  or 
magnetic  clairvoyance. 

Such  is  the  testimony,  and  such  are  the  opinions,  of 
Parke  Godwin  respecting  a  book,  which  the  long-eared 
critic  of  the  Commercial  and  Columbian  calls  “  an  im¬ 
pudent  bamboozlement.” 

In  view  ot  such  stupidity,  we  blush  for  the  press,  and 
humbly  trust  that  it  has  very  little  to  do  with  guiding 
and  governing  public  opinion. 


MR.  N.  P.  WILLIS.  EDITOR. 


71 


37. 


MR.  N.  P.  WILLIS,  EDITOR  OP  THE  HOME  JOURNAL 

New  York,  October  28,  1867. 

I  find  myself  becoming  more  and  more  curious  about 
notable  people,  who  fill  the  conspicuous  places  in  art 
and  literature.  An  editor  occupies  to  me  an  unknown 
station  among  men  ;  and  an  atithor ,  of  high  reputa¬ 
tion,  is  beyond  my  comprehension  !  I  begin  to  wonder 
whether  I  shall  ever  behold  such  renowned  and  world¬ 
stirring  men  as  Bryant,  Greeley,  Bennett,  Godwin,  &c.  ? 
Whether  it  will  ever  be  possible  for  me  to  speak  to 
them,  and  to  know  them  as  fellow-members  of  the  hu¬ 
man  race  ?  Whether,  when  [  meet  them,  and  look  at 
them  with  my  intense  curiosity,  I  shall  have  sufficient 
self-possession,  and  the  requisite  degree  of  spiritual 
tranquillity,  to  obtain  a  correct  “  impression”  of  their 
most  interior  qualities  and  ruling  characteristics  ?  For 
this,  after  all,  is  the  secret  spring  of  my  wishing  to  meet 
them. 

A  few  days  since  somebody  presented  me  a  printed 
slip  from  the  pen  of  Mr.  N.  P.  Willis.  It  was  the  pre¬ 
face  to  a  lengthy  and  appreciative  review  in  the  Home 
Journal  of  the  “  Lectures,”  and  it  read  as  follows  : — 

“  To  an  unbeliever  it  will  be  a  most  delicious  and  far-rc aching 
work  of  imagination,  written  with  a  vast  background  o.'  scien- 


72 


MEMORANDA. 


tific  and  philosophical  knowledge,  while  to  the  believer  it  will  be, 
of  course,  like  converse  with  an  archangel  on  the  comparison  of 
other  worlds  with  ours.  We  simply  propose  to  enrich  our  columns 
with  an  extract  or  two  from  the  work,  and  to  inform  both  be¬ 
lievers  and  unbelievers  in  clairvoyance,  of  the  existence  of  a  book 
which  will  be  a  ‘  witch’s  broom’  to  the  imagination,  enabling  a 
dreamer  to  visit  the  past,  to  visit  stars,  to  measure  his  own  value 
in  creation,  and  his  own  stage  of  progress  between  chaos  and  per¬ 
fection,  and,  in  short,  to  forget  care  and  trifles  very  effectively  and 
go  off  on  a  revel  of  intoxicating  and  elevating  imaginations.  A 
more  suggestive  and  edifying  book,  at  the  same  time  let  us  say, 
could  scarcely  come  after  the  Bible.  But  without  further  intro¬ 
duction  let  us  proceed  at  once  to  the  work  itself.” 

To-day  I  have,  for  the  first  time,  seen  Mr.  Willis ! 
Ife  was  standing  (when  a  friend  kindly  pointed  him 
out  to  me)  on  the  steps  of  the  Astor  House.  He  ap¬ 
peared  to  be  about  six  feet  in  height ;  was  easily  and 
gracefully  dressed  ;  a  profusion  of  beautiful  brown,  curly 
hair ;  and  a  countenance,  the  expression  of  which  gave 
me,  as  I  slowly  walked  by,  a  peculiarly  exuberant  at¬ 
mosphere  of  magnetism,  emanating,  seemingly,  from  a 
remarkable  combination  of  eccentric  but  noble  qualities, 
in  a  state  of  energetic  impulsiveness— altogether  a  sin¬ 
gular  mentality,  and  the  thought  awakened  in  my  mind 
was :  “  What  a  shower  of  rich  sunlight  falls  from 

Nature’s  beautiful  flowers  and  forms  into  this  man’s 
feelings,  but  he  is  not  quiet  long  enough  at  anyone  time 
to  grow  a  field  of  wheat.”  He  neither  attracted  nor 
repelled  me. 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  A  SAILOR. 


73 


38. 


INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  SPIRIT  OF  A  SAILOR. 

Poughkeepsie,  October  30,  184T. 

As  I  was  strolling  in  the  grove  on  the  western  de¬ 
clivity  of  “  College  Hill,”  musing  rather  than  thinking, 
a  blaze  of  keen-pointed  magnetism  suddenly  enveloped 
my  entire  body.  It  was  a  primitive  sensation;  recalling 
the  first  time  I  experienced  the  mesmeric  influence. 
With  singular  distinctness,  clearness  and  purity,  a  voice 
said  :  “  Jackson — hear  this  child  of  misfortune !  He 
passed  out  of  earth  a  gray-haired  and  wild-eyed,  strong¬ 
voiced,  broken-hearted,  and  broken-beaded  sailor.” 

The  remarkable  sweetness  of  the  petitioning  voice, 
emanating  from  unseen  lips  in  the  air,  immediately  se¬ 
cured  my  undivided  attention.  I  became  a  spirit — un¬ 
conscious  of  a  physical  existence ;  and  thus  I  both  saw 
and  heard  him  who  was  called  “The  Child  of  Misfor¬ 
tune.”  He  was  an  enthusiastic-looking  man  ;  with  an 
expression  of  fervid  sympathy  in  his  large  eyes ;  and 
around  his  mouth  a  smile  of  humor  and  universal  good 
nature. 

“  True,”  he  said,  in  a  voice  melodious  with  a  sort  of 
impulsive  tenderness — “  true,  I  am  a  broken-headed 
sailor.” 

“Your  head  is  not  broken,”  I  replied,  with  a  tone 
of  playfulness. 

4 


74 


MEMO  KAN  DA. 


“  No,  sir,  no  ;  it  is  not  broken  now.  Although  I  left 
the  earth  through  an  opening  a  comrade  made  in  my 
skull.” 

Vividly  and  vigorously,  as  though  he  held  the  pencil 
of  the  most  masterly  artist,  and  with  great  emotion,  he 
pictured  before  me  in  the  air,  as  on  a  vast  sheet,  the 
living  identities,  the  likenesses  of  persons  once  in  flesh 
and  blood,  with  the  time,  place,  circumstances,  &c., 
which  entered  into  his  personal  recollections,  and 
which,  by  their  immense  combination  and  power,  made 
up  the  catalogue  of  unfortunate  causes  and  miserable 
effects  visible  in  the  very  life  of  his  existence. 

The  picture  was  a  merchant-ship  at  sea ;  a  plot,  a 
quarrel,  and  a  mutiny;  officers  and  sailors  disputing 
and  wrestling  together,  and  pummeling  one  another  in 
the  most  unmerciful  manner ;  fists,  handspikes,  swords, 
bloody  faces  visible  all  around ;  and  the  burly  figure 
of  the  man  then  before  me  (as  he  appeared  when  a 
sailor),  sinking  down,  lower  and  lower;  he  was  sinking 
in  the  sea.  A  ruffianly-looking  sailor,  violently  striking 
him  on  the  head  with  a  heavy  club,  fractured  his  skull, 
and  threw  him  overboard  during  the  tempestuous  ex¬ 
citement  of  the  fight. 

“  Oh,  I  understand  now,”  said  I,  “  how  you  left  the 
earth  through  a  broken  head.”  And,  I  added  :  “  Do 
you  seek  revenge?  Would  you  punish  the  man  who 
broke  your  skull?” 

A  noble,  generous  smile  illuminated  his  face,  as  he 
replied,  firmly:  “No,  sir,  no;  not  that,  sir,  not  that; 
for  that  sailor  was  once  a  kind-hearted  boy.  We  were 
boys  together.  In  many  a  street  fight  he  stood  by  me 
and  I  stood  by  him.  One  of  these  days,  ‘Dug’  will 


THE  UNIVEEC’r.MJM. 


7  5 


write  the  experience  of  that  sailor-boy’s  brother ;  and 
I  want  you  to  promise  me  that  you  will  read  it,  every 
word,  and  hand  it  around  among  your  neighbors  and 
chums,  for  it  will  soften  their  feelings  toward  us  sailors, 
and  help  the  unfortunate  boys  on  land.” 

“Who  is  ‘Dug’?”  I  asked. 

“  ‘  Dug’  is  the  lad  that  sailed  on  one  voyage  with  us. 
He  was  the  story-teller !  When  you  spy  his  yarn 
about  the  boy  going  to  the  gallows,  read  every  word  of 
it ;  for  it  tells  what  is  better  than  a  rope  for  a  poor  boy.” 

I  gave  him  my  promise  that  if  I  ever  found  “  Dug’s” 
story  in  print,  it  should  receive  my  immediate  atten¬ 
tion.  Thus  ended  the  interview.  It  seemed  to  me 
that  I  had  been  physically  unconscious  about  two 
hours ;  but  the  distant  clock,  on  the  steeple  of  the  old 
Dutch  Reformed  Church,  had  recorded  the  flight  of 
only  twenty  minutes.  This  feeling  was  attributable  to 
the  mind’s  usual  estimate  of  the  amount  of  time  con¬ 
sumed  in  the  transpiration  of  a  given  numbei  of  events 


29. 

FIRST  NUMBER  OF  THE  UNIYERCCELUM 

Poughkeepsie,  November  4,  '•8*1. 

The  ship  is  launched.  It  is  the  first  step  in  a  new 
experience.  The  public  will  now  have  a  fair  opportu¬ 
nity  to  learn  something  of  the  principles  of  the  new 
“  Spiritual  Philosophers.”  *  A.nd  my  name  is  put  in 

*  The  reader  of  this  volume  is  referrod,  for  numerous  important,  sin¬ 
gular  events  in  the  author’s  personal  psychological  history,  to  his  Auto¬ 
biography,  “  The  Magic  Staff.” 


76 


MEMORANDA. 


as  one  of  tlie  editors  !  The  Scribe’s  editorial,  in  the  first 
number,  now  before  the  world,  embodies  the  only  true 
position.  Read  and  remember  these  two  paragraphs  : — 

But  though  the  book  entitled  “  The  Principles  of 
Nature,”  &c.,  by  Mr.  Davis,  the  clairvoyant,  is,  as  we 
confess,  the  immediate  cause  which  has  led  to  the  crea¬ 
tion  of  this  journal,  we  would  not  be  understood  as  re¬ 
ceiving  this  or  any  other  mere  book  as  infallible  author¬ 
ity  in  matters  of  faith  and  practice.  To  erect  this,  or 
any  other  book,  as  an  infallible  standard ,  and  to  bow 
slavishly  to  its  teachings,  without  boldly  inquiring  into 
their  intrinsic  propriety,  would  be  at  once  to  sacrifice 
the  high  prerogatives  of  Reason,  and  to  do  violence  to 
those  principles  of  free  and  unrestricted  thought  incul¬ 
cated  on  almost  every  page  of  this  same  book.  Mr. 
Davis’s  book,  therefore,  will  be  regarded  as  a  light 
rather  than  as  an  authority ;  and  whatever  devotion 
we  may  manifest  toward  its  teachings  will  be  exhibited 
because  those  teachings  are  presented  to  our  reason  in  a 
reliable  form. 

The  word  “  Univerccelumf  which  we  have  selected  as 
our  title,  means,  literally  translated,  “  the  united  revolv¬ 
ing  heavens.”  It  was  coined  by  the  youthful  clairvoyant 
in  the  dictation  of  his  wonderful  book,  and  was  used  by 
him  as  significant  of  all  things,  terrestrial  and  celestial, 
existing  in  infinite  space.  We  adopt  this  title,  there¬ 
fore,  as  an  appropriate  indication  of  the  most  expansive 
possible  sphere  of  inquiry  ;  and  consistently  with  its 
import,  we  shall  know  no  'party  save  the  whole  human 
race,  and  no  restriction  of  thought  save  that  which  is 
prescribed  by  the  laws  of  nature  and  the  capacities  of 
the  human  mind. 


BUENKENHOF’s  TRUTHFUL  DREAM. 


77 


The  complete  reasonableness  of  this  position  must  be 
apparent  to  every  rational  and  unprejudiced  intellect. 
This  signifies  true  and  lasting  freedom  from  all  arbi 
trary  standards  in  religion. 


30. 

BRENKEN HOF’S  TRUTHFUL  DREAM. 

Poughkeepsie,  November  6,  1 847. 

A  correspondent  sends  me,  by  to-day’s  mail,  a 
translation  of  what  he  deems  an  interesting  illustration 
of  “  Special  Spiritual  Providence.”  It  is  called  the 
“Dream  of  the  celebrated  Mr.  Yon  Brenkenhof,” 
which  has  already  been  fully  published  and  widely 
circulated.  The  truth  of  it  is  beyond  a  doubt,  and  it 
is  related  as  follows  : — 

“  Tliis  gentleman  dreamed  one  night  that  he  was  in  a  desert 
and  very  dreary  region,  from  which  he  longed  to  depart.  He, 
however,  saw  a  man  who  induced  him  to  remain  there,  and  he 
soon  after  saw  this  person,  to  whom  he  felt  attached,  expire.  At 
the  same  time  he  saw  a  long  train  of  people  in  a  strange  and  un¬ 
usual  dress,  and  then  he  awoke.  The  countenance  and  the  whole 
exterior  of  the  man  whom  he  saw  in  his  dream  made  such  an  im¬ 
pression  upon  his  imagination,  that  he  almost  saw  him  when 
awake.  The  whole  scene  was  never  obliterated  from  his  mem¬ 
ory,  during  his  whole  life.  Some  time  afterward,  he  received  a 
commission  from  Frederick  II.,  king  of  Prussia,  to  proceed  to 
Pomerania,  in  order  to  succor  those  provinces  which  had  been 
devastated  by  the  Russians  in  the  seven  years’  war.  Brenkenhof 
journeyed  thither,  but  found  the  wretchedness  so  great,  and  the 
more  closely  he  examined  into  it  the  greater  he  found  it,  that, 
despairing  of  being  able  to  render  any  assistance,  he  determined 


76 


MEMORANDA. 


as  one  of  tlie  editors  !  Tbe  Scribe’s  editorial,  in  the  first 
number,  now  before  the  world,  embodies  the  only  true 
position.  Read  and  remember  these  two  paragraphs  : — 

But  though  the  book  entitled  “  The  Principles  of 
Nature,”  &e.,  by  Mr.  Davis,  the  clairvoyant,  is,  as  we 
confess,  the  immediate  cause  which  has  led  to  the  crea¬ 
tion  of  this  journal,  we  would  not  be  understood  as  re¬ 
ceiving  this  or  any  other  mere  book  as  infallible  author¬ 
ity  in  matters  of  faith  and  practice.  To  erect  this,  or 
any  other  book,  as  an  infallible  standard ,  and  to  bow 
slavishly  to  its  teachings,  without  boldly  inquiring  into 
their  intrinsic  propriety,  would  be  at  once  to  sacrifice 
the  high  prerogatives  of  Reason,  and  to  do  violence  to 
those  principles  of  free  and  unrestricted  thought  incul¬ 
cated  on  almost  every  page  of  this  same  book.  Mr. 
Davis’s  book,  therefore,  will  be  regarded  as  a  light 
rather  than  as  an  authority ;  and  whatever  devotion 
we  may  manifest  toward  its  teachings  will  be  exhibited 
because  those  teachings  are  presented  to  our  reason  in  a 
reliable  form. 

The  word  “  JJniverceelumf  which  we  have  selected  as 
our  title,  means,  literally  translated,  “  the  united  revolv¬ 
ing  heavens.”  It  was  coined  by  the  youthful  clairvoyant 
in  the  dictation  of  his  wonderful  book,  and  was  used  by 
him  as  significant  of  all  things,  terrestrial  and  celestial, 
existing  in  infinite  space.  We  adopt  this  title,  there¬ 
fore,  as  an  appropriate  indication  of  the  most  expansive 
possible  sphere  of  inquiry  ;  and  consistently  with  its 
import,  we  shall  know  no  party  save  the  whole  human 
race ,  and  no  restriction  of  thought  save  that  which  is 
prescribed  by  the  laws  of  nature  and  the  capacities  of 
the  human  mind. 


BRENKENHOF’s  TRUTIIFFL  DREAM. 


77 


The  complete  reasonableness  of  this  position  must  be 
apparent  to  every  rational  and  unprejudiced  intellect. 
This  signifies  true  and  lasting  freedom  from  all  arbi 
trary  standards  in  religion. 


30. 

BRENKEN HOF’S  TRUTHFUL  DREAM. 

Poughkeepsie,  November  6,  1847. 

A  correspondent  sends  me,  by  to-day’s  mail,  a 
translation  of  what  he  deems  an  interesting  illustration 
of  “  Special  Spiritual  Providence.”  It  is  called  the 
“Dream  of  the  celebrated  Mr.  Von  Brenkenhof,” 
which  has  already  been  fully  published  and  widely 
circulated.  The  truth  of  it  is  beyond  a  doubt,  and  it 
is  related  as  follows  : — 

“  This  gentleman  dreamed  one  night  that  he  was  in  a  desert 
and  very  dreary  region,  from  which  he  longed  to  depart.  He, 
however,  saw  a  man  who  induced  him  to  remain  there,  and  he 
soon  after  saw  this  person,  to  whom  he  felt  attached,  expire.  At 
the  same  time  he  saw  a  long  train  of  people  in  a  strange  and  un¬ 
usual  dress,  and  then  he  awoke.  The  countenance  and  the  whole 
exterior  of  the  man  whom  he  saw  in  his  dream  made  such  an  im¬ 
pression  upon  his  imagination,  that  he  almost  saw  him  when 
awake.  The  whole  scene  was  never  obliterated  from  his  mem¬ 
ory,  during  his  whole  life.  Some  time  afterward,  he  received  a 
commission  from  Frederick  II.,  king  of  Prussia,  to  proceed  to 
Pomerania,  in  order  to  succor  those  provinces  which  had  been 
devastated  by  the  Russians  in  the  seven  years’  war.  Brenkenhof 
journeyed  thither,  but  found  the  wretchedness  so  great,  and  the 
more  closely  he  examined  into  it  the  greater  he  found  it,  that, 
despairing  of  being  able  to  render  any  assistance,  he  determined 


80 


MEMORANDA. 


Its  principles  are  the  unchanging  laws  of  God ; 
easy — when  the  mind  shall  be  freed  from  local  igno¬ 
rances — for  all  to  understand. 

Its  practices  will  be  highly  beneficial  for  all  of  the 
family  of  man. 

The  few  and  simple,  yet  beautiful  laws  of  God,  on 
which  this  new  religion  is  based,  are :  1st.  That  the 
moving  power  of  nature,  the  spirit  of  the  universe, 
God — or  by  whatever  other  name  this  incomprehensible 
creative  essence  may  be  called,  has  created  the  general 
qualities  of  humanity,  and  made  one  man  to  differ  from 
another  by  giving  to  each  his  own  peculiar  compound 
of  these  human  qualities. 

2d.  That  this  ever-acting  spirit  of  the  universe  so 
forms-  all  men  that  they  are  compelled  to  believe  or 
disbelieve,  not  by  their  own  will,  but  according  to  the 
strongest  evidence  at  the  time  made  upon  their  minds  ; 
and  to  feel,  not  as  they  may  desire,  but  in  accordance 
with  the  instincts  also  thus  forced  upon  them  by  this 
universal  creating  power. 

3d.  That  man  is  thus  made  to  be  what  he  is  without 
his  knowledge,  or  possibility  of  merit  or  demerit  on  his 
part,  and  that,  as  the  created,  he  must  have  power  only 
to  think  and  act  as  it  has  been  given  to  him. 

4th.  Therefore,  whatever  may  be  man’s  individual 
qualities ;  whatever  may  be  his  thoughts  or  his  actions ; 
they  all,  directly  or  indirectly,  emanate  from  God  ;  from 
the  unknown  creative  power  of  the  universe. 

5th.  That  this  power,  and  not  that  man,  the  created, 
is  alone  the  author  of  whatever  is  done  upon  the  earth 
and  throughout  the  universe.  It  is,  therefore,  the  es¬ 
sence  of  ignorant  presumption  for  any  man  to  pretend 


THE  CLAIRVOYANT  FACULTY. 


81 


that  he  knows  any  thing  of  the  will  or  intentions  of 
this  power,  or  to  speak  and  write  of  it,  as  do  the  parrot- 
taught-unthinking  in  all  countries.  The  will  or  inten¬ 
tions  of  this  unknown  power  may  be  conjectured  by 
man,  from  feeling,  seeing,  and  considering  the  effects 
of  creation  as  they  exist  within  himself,  and  the  cir¬ 
cumstances  around  him ;  but,  until  more  facts  shall  be 
discovered,  these  imaginations  will  be  vague  and  most 
uncertain. 

6th.  That  these  principles,  fully  comprehended,  are 
abundantly  sufficient  to  direct  all  men  to  wisdom,  good¬ 
ness,  and  happiness.  The  practices  of  this  new  religion 
will  be  the  reverse  of  that  which  has  so  far  prevailed 
over  the  world,  and  made  it  a  chaotic  pandemonium. 

Last  summer  I  saw  in  a  vision,  and  wrote  out  a  chart 
of  “  The  History  and  Destiny  of  the  Race.”*  The  lead¬ 
ing  idea  makes  me  think  that  Robert  Owen  will  not 
realize  his  beautiful  and  desirable  hopes  in  this  world. 


33. 


TESTS  OF  THE  CLAIRVOYANT  FACULTY  IN  EUROPE. 

New  York,  November  15,  1847. 

It  is  truly  refreshing  and  encouraging  to  hear  that 
foreigners,  men  of  science  and  authority,  have  investi¬ 
gated  and  indorsed  the  facts  of  clairvoyance.  A  friend 
of  psychological  progression  kindly  translates  and 
sends  me  the  following  account,  which  was  contained 

*  See  full  description  in  the  “  Magic  Staff." 

4* 


82 


MEMORANDA. 


in  a  Strasburg  paper,  called  the  Courier  of  the  Lowei 
Rhine ,  No.  31,  12th  of  March,  1807  : — - 

“  The  history  of  the  somnambulist  of  Lyons,”  says  the  Jour¬ 
nal  de  Paris ,  “  presents  an  assemblage  of  such  striking  facts, 
that  we  should  be  inclined  to  regard  the  whole  as  charlatanry 
and  deceit,  if  credible  eye-witne3ses  had  not  vouched  for  the 
truth  of  it.  People  may  smile  on  hearing  it  asserted,  that  an 
hysterical  woman  possesses  the  rare  gift  of  revealing  future 
things  to  those  with  whom  she  stands  in  rapport ,  but  such  is  the 
case;  the  wise  man  believes  without  precipitation,  and  doubts 
with  caution.  M.  Petetain,  an  esteemed  physician  in  Lyons,  who 
has  long  watched  the  progress  of  the  disorder  with  which  the 
lady  is  afflicted,  is  occupied  in  arranging  the  facts  lie  has  col¬ 
lected,  and  in  preparing  them  for  publication.  Previous  to  the 
appearance  of  M.  Petetain’s  announced  work,  we  will  adduce 
the  following  facts,  which  are  related  by  a  respectable  eye-wit¬ 
ness,  M.  Ballanche. 

“The  catalepsy  of  a  lady  in  Lyons,  had  been  for  some  time  the 
subject  of  conversation  in  that  city;  and  M.  Petetain  had  already 
published  several  very  surprising  facts  relative  to  it,  when  M. 
Ballanche  became  desirous  of  being  an  eye-witness  of  the  aston¬ 
ishing  effects  of  this  condition.  He  chose  the  moment  for  visit¬ 
ing  this  lady  when  she  was  approaching  the  crisis  (the  time 
of  the  magnetic  sleep).  At  the  door  he  learned  that  not  every 
one,  without  distinction,  was  permitted  to  approach  the  patient’s 
couch,  but  that  she  must  herself  grant  the  permission.  She  was 
therefore  asked  if  she  would  receive  M.  Ballanche;  to  which 
she  replied  in  the  affirmative:  upon  this  he  approached  the  bed, 
in  which  he  saw  a  female  lying  motionless,  and  who  was  to  all 
appearance,  sunk  into  a  profound  sleep.  He  laid  his  hand,  as  lie 
had  been  instructed,  on  the  stomach  of  the  somnambulist,  and 
then  began  his  interrogatories,  '['he  patient  answered  them  all 
most  correctly.  This  surprising  result  only  excited  the  curiosity 
of  the  inquirer.  He  had  with  him  several  letters  from  one  of 
his  friends,  one  of  which  he  took,  with  whose  contents  he 
imagined  himself  best  acquainted,  and  laid  it,  folded  up,  on  the 


THE  CLAIRVOYANT  FACULTY. 


83 


stomach  of  the  patient.  He  then  asked  the  sleeper  if  she  could 
read  the  letter,  to  which  she  answered  yes.  He  then  inquired 
if  it  did  not  mention  the  name  of  a  certain  person  whom  he 
named.  She  denied  that  it  did.  M.  Ballanche,  being  certain 
that  the  patient  was  mistaken,  repeated  the  question,  and  received 
a  similar  answer  in  the  negative ;  the  somnambulist  even  ap¬ 
peared  angry  at  his  doubting  it,  and  pushed  away  the  hand  of 
the  inquirer  and  the  letter  from  her.  M.  Ballanche,  struck  with 
this  obstinacy,  went  to  one  side  with  the  letter,  read  it,  and 
found  to  his  great  astonishment  that  he  had  not  laid  the  letter  he 
intended  to  have  selected  on  the  stomach  of  the  sleeper;  and 
that,  therefore,  the  error  was  on  his  side.  He  approached  the 
bed  a  second  time,  laid  that  particular  letter  on  the  place ;  and 
the  patient  then  said,  with  a  certain  degree  of  satisfaction,  that 
she  read  the  name  which  he  had  previously  mentioned. 

“This  experiment  would,  doubtless,  have  satisfied  most  men; 
but  M.  Ballanche  went  still  further.  He  had  been  told  that  the 
patient  could  see  through  the  darkest  substances,  and  read  writing 
and  letters  through  walls.  He  asked  if  this  were  really  the  case, 
to  which  she  replied  in  the  affirmative.  He  therefore  took  a 
book,  went  into  an  adjoining  room,  held  with  one  hand  a  leaf  of 
this  book  against  the  wall,  and  with  tho  other  took  hold  of  one  of 
those  that  were  present,  who,  joining  hands,  formed  a  chain  which 
reached  to  the  patient,  on  whose  stomach  the  last  person  laid  his 
hand.  The  patient  read  the  leaves  that  were  held  to  the  wall, 
which  were  often  turned  over,  and  read  them  without  making  the 
smallest  error. 

“This  is  a  faithful  and  simple  relation  of  whatM.  Ballanche  saw. 
An  infinite  number  of  objections  may  be  brought  against  it,  but  a 
hundred  thousand  substantial  arguments  can  not  overthrow  one 
single  fact.  The  lady  still  lives,  is  seen  by  many  impartial  per¬ 
sons,  and  was  long  attended  by  an  expert  and  respectable  physi¬ 
cian  who  attests  the  same.  The  individuals  give  their  names. 
Who  is  bold  enough  still  to  deny  it?” 

So  far  the  translation  from  the  Strasburg  paper. 

This  narrative  containsnothing  that  isnot  confirmed  by 


84 


MEMORANDA. 


numberless  experiments  :  one  circumstance  is,  however, 
remarkable,  that  the  lady  in  question  can  read  at  a  dis¬ 
tance,  without  coming  into  immediatecontact,  when  a 
line  of  persons  take  hold  of  each  other’s  hands,  the  first 
of  whom  lays  his  hand  upon  the  pit  of  the  heart — not 
of  the  stomach,  which  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  mat¬ 
ter — and  the  last  holds  the  letter :  however,  she  reads 
through  neither  the  partition  nor  the  wall,  but  through 
the  soul  of  him  who  holds  the  book  or  letter.  By  a 
similar  connection  or  chain,  electricity,  or  the  electric 
shock  is  communicated.  All  this  is  still  obscure,  but 
in  the  sequel  it  will  become  clearer. 

Equally  remarkable,  and  perhaps  still  more  important, 
is  the  observation,  to  which  all  confidence  may  be  at¬ 
tached,  that  somnambulists,  when  they  have  attained  to 
a  certain  high  degree  of  clearness  of  vision,  manifestly 
and  distinctly  perceive  the  thoughts  and  ideas  of  him 
with  whom  they  are  placed  in  rapport.  He,  there¬ 
fore,  who  intends  to  magnetize  another,  should  himself 
be  a  person  of  pure  heart,  of  piety  and  integrity. 

Among  so  many  experiments  of  this  kind,  I  will  only 
adduce  one,  which  Gmelin  relates  in  a  work  on  the 
subject.  He  states  that,  in  the  year  1780,  he  went  to 
Carlsruhe  to  collect  facts  relative  to  magnetism,  and 
found  what  he  was  in  search  of.  He  was  told  there  was 
at  that  time  a  somnambulist  living  there,. whose  inward 
vision  was  so  clear  that  she  could  distinctly  read  what 
passed  in  the  souls  of  those  with  whom  she  was  placed 
in  connection  :  If  he  would,  therefore,  bring  the  patients, 
whom  he  had  then  under  cure,  distinctly  in  succession 
before  her,  she  would  tell  him  what  his  ideas  were. 
He  followed  this  advice,  and  found  the  fact  was  really 


THE  CLAIRVOYANT  FACULTY. 


85 


so:  she  told  him,  distinctly,  everything  that  he  im¬ 
agined.  He  adds : — 

Another  individual,  of  great  integrity,  and  to  whom 
I  am  much  attached,  told  me  that  his  wife  had  once  a 
housekeeper,  who  had  also  been  magnetized  on  account 
of  illness,  and  had  at  length,  during  her  magnetic  sleep, 
attained  an  extraordinary  degree  of  clearness  of  vision. 
In  this  state  she  had  communicated  remarkable  and 
important  discoveries  concerning  the  invisible  world, 
which  were  in  exact  accordance  with  a  work  of  mine, 
entitled  “Scenes  from  the  World  of  Spirits,”  although 
she  had  never  seen  my  book,  nor  knew,  nor  could  have 
known,  of  its  existence. 

She  brought  intelligence  from  the  invisible  world 
respecting  certain  important  personages,  enough  to 
make  the  hearers  ears  tingle.  She  once  said  to  her 
master,  in  the  crisis,  “Your  brother  has  just  expired  at 
Magdeburg.”  No  one  knew  any  thing  of  his  illness,  and, 
besides  this,  Magdeburg  was  many  miles  distant.  A 
few  days  after,  the  news  arrived  of  his  death,  which  ex¬ 
actly  agreed  with  the  prediction. 

According  to  our  common  conceptions  of  human  na¬ 
ture,  the  fact  is  astonishing,  incomprehensible,  and  most 
remarkable,  that  most  somnambulists,  even  the  most 
vulgar  and  uneducated  people,  begin  clearly  to  recog¬ 
nize  their  bodily  illness,  and  even  prescribe  the  most 
appropriate  medicines  for  themselves,  which  the  physi¬ 
cian  must  also  make  use  of  if  he  wishes  to  gain  his 
end.  Even  if  they  do  not  know  the  names  of  the  reme¬ 
dies,  yet  they  describe  their  qualities  so  minutely  that 
the  physician  can  soon  ascertain  them.  In  this  state, 


86 


MEMORANDA. 


also,  they  speak  high  German,  where  this  is  the  lan¬ 
guage  of  the  pulpit  and  the  written  tongue.* 

It  is  also  very  remarkable  that  somnambulists,  who 
have  often  been  in  this  state  and  at  length  attain  this 
clearness  of  vision,  arise,  perform  all  kinds  of  work, 
play  on  an  instrument  if  they  have  been  taught  music, 
go  out  to  walk,  &c.,  without  their  bodily  senses  having 
even  the  smallest  perception  of  the  visible  world  :  they 
are  then  in  the  state  of  common  sleep-walkers.  Thus  it 
happened,  that  while  I  was  at  Bremen,  in  the  autumn 
of  the  year  1798,  a  young  woman  came  to  me  to  ask 
my  advice  respecting  hereyes.  She  was  a  somnambu¬ 
list,  and  had  herself  decided  upon  consulting  me  in  the 
crisis  ;  her  mother  accompanied  her,  but  she  awoke  in 
my  presence,  and  I  was  therefore  obliged  to  prescribe 
the  appropriate  remedies  alone  and  without  her  assist¬ 
ance. 

All  these  incidents,  and  others  still  more  wonderful, 
may  be  found  in  the  writings  of  the  above  mentioned 
authors.  The  most  eminent  physicians,  and,  generally 
speaking,  every  learned  and  rational  thinking  person, 
who  has  had  the  opportunity  and  the  will  to  examine, 
with  precision,  the  elfects  of  animal  magnetism,  will  at¬ 
test  that  all  that  has  been  now  advanced  is  pure  truth, 
aud  confirm  it  by  their  testimony.  But  how  is  it  that 
no  one  has  hitherto  attempted  to  draw  hence  those  fer¬ 
tile  inferences  by  which  the  knowledge  of  human  na¬ 
ture  might  be  so  much  increased  ?  To  the  best  of  my 
knowledge,  no  one  has  yet  done  so.  Truly,  so  long  as 
materialism  is  considered  as  the  only  true  system,  it  is 

*  In  most  parts  of  Germany,  the  middle  and  lower  classes  speak  low 
German,  which  varies  considerably  from  the  written  language. 


THE  CLAIRVOYANT  FACULTY. 


S7 


impossible  to  comprehend  such  wonderful  things  ;  but, 
according  to  my  system  of  theocratic  liberty,  not  only 
is  the  whole  comprehensible,  but  we  are  also  led  by 
magnetism  to  the  most  important  discoveries,  which 
before  were  only  mysterious  enigmas.  I  entreat  a  can¬ 
did  and  impartial  investigation  of  the  following  con¬ 
clusions. 

Every  naturalist  knows,  and  it  is  generally  acknowl¬ 
edged  truth,  that  there  is  a  certain  extremely  rarefied 
and  active  fluid,  which  fills  the  whole  creation,  so  far  as 
we  are  acquainted  with  it.  We  call  this  fluid  rarefied 
celestial  air ;  or,  in  one  word,  ether.  Newton  was 
acquainted  with  it,  and  called  it  Sensorium  Dei — the 
organ  of  Divine  sensation.  Euler  believed  that  the 
bodies  of  light  gave  a  tremulous  motion  to  this  fluid, 
which  extended  itself  till  it  reached  the  sight,  and  thus 
formed  the  light :  which  opinion  I  also  regarded  for  a 
long  time  as  the  most  probable ;  but,  on  close  exam¬ 
ination,  I  find  it  impossible.  The  million  different  in¬ 
tersections  of  this  tremulous  motion  must,  necessarily, 
confuse  their  direction.  Even  the  definition  of  sound, 
by  the  progressive  motion  of  the  atmosphere,  is  unten¬ 
able  ;  for  if  we  attentively  observe  how  many  thousand 
tones — sometimes  all  at  once,  and  at  another  following 
each  other  in  rapid  succession — are  distinguished  by  the 
ear  in  a  variously-composed  concerto,  each  of  which 
tones  must,  therefore,  occasion  its  appropriate  motion  in 
the  atmosphere :  I  say,  how  can  such  a  material  motion 
be  possible,  without  confusing  itself  a  hundred,  nay,  a 
thousand  times? 

It  is  also  acknowledged,  further,  that  this  ethereal 
fluid  penetrates  through  the  most  compact  bodies,  so 


88 


MEMORANDA. 


tliat  it  fills  all  things,  and  is  itself  perfectly  penetrable ; 
for  if  it  were  not  so,  it  conld  not  penetrate  through  the 
densest  bodies.  Light,  electricity,  galvanism,  and  per¬ 
haps  also  the  magnetic  power  of  iron,  are,  very  probably, 
nothing  else  than  different  exhibitions  of  this  one  and 
the  same  fluid. 


33. 


CAZOTTE’S  PROPHECY  FULFILLED  DURING  THE  FRENCH 
REVOLUTION. 

Williamsburgh,  November  20,  1847. 

A  gentleman,  who  writes  me  that  he  has  been  “  ab¬ 
sorbed  ”  in  reading  the  large  book  of  Lectures,  thinks 
I  might  like  to  read  some  demonstrations  of  the  power 
of  prophecy.  He  writes  that  a  most  remarkable  in¬ 
stance  of  the  development  of  the  faculty  of  presentiment 
is  incontestably  the  prediction  of  M.  Cazotte,  at  a  din¬ 
ner  in  Paris.  A  favorite  German  periodical  work  has 
taken  the  liberty  to  ascribe  the  whole  narrative  to  the 
invention  of  some  ingenious  idler  ;  but  this  assertion  is 
destitute  of  proof.  Jung  Stilling  says  : — “  I  can  prove, 
on  the  contrary,  that  it  is  literally  and  minutely  true. 
I  have  spoken  upon  the  subject  with  a  person  of  rank, 
who  sincerely  loves  the  truth,  and  who  was  well  ac¬ 
quainted  with  Cazotte  :  and  this  individual  assured  me 
that  Cazotte  was  a  man  of  great  piety,  and  endowed 
with  a  high  degree  of  knowledge  ;  that  he  frequently 
predicted  the  most  remarkable  things,  which  were 
always  fulfilled ;  and  that  he  testified,  at  the  same  time, 


CAZOTTF/S  PROPHECY  FULFILLED. 


89 


that  they  were  communicated  to  him  by  means  of  in¬ 
tercourse  with  spirits.” 

The  narrative  was  found  among  the  papers  of  the 
late  M.  La  Harpe,  in  his  own  handwriting.  This  La 
Ilarpe  was  a  member  of  the  Royal  Academy  of  Sciences 
in  Paris. 

I  will  first  relate  the  narrative  in  La  Harpe’s  own 
words,  and  then  add  a  few  remarks  respecting  its  au¬ 
thenticity.  He  writes  as  follows  : — 

“It  seems  to  me  as  if  it  were  but  yesterday,  although  it  hap¬ 
pened  at  the  beginning  of  the  year  1788.  We  were  dining  with 
one  of  our  colleagues  of  the  academy,  a  man  of  genius  and  re¬ 
spectability.  The  company,  which  was  numerous,  was  selected 
from  all  ranks — courtiers,  judges,  learned  men,  academicians,  &c., 
and  had  done  justice  to  the  ample,  and,  as  usual,  well-furnished 
repast.  At  the  dessert,  Malvasier  and  Constantin  heightened  the 
festivity,  and  augmented,  in  good  society,  that  kind  of  freedom 
which  does  not  always  keep  itself  within  defined  bounds. 

“The  world  had  at  that  time  arrived  at  such  a  pitch,  that  it 
was  permitted  to  say  any  thing  with  the  intention  of  exciting  mer¬ 
riment.  Chamfort  had  read  to  us  some  of  his  blasphemous  and 
lascivious  tales,  and  noble  ladies  had  listened  to  them  even  with¬ 
out  having  recourse  to  their  fans.  After  this,  followed  a  whole 
host  of  sarcasms  on  religion.  One  person  quoted  a  tirade  from 
Pucelle;  another  reminded  the  company  of  that  philosophical 
verse  of  Diderot’s,  in  which  he  says,  ‘Strangle  the  last  king  with 
the  entrails  of  the  last  priest !  ’ — and  all  clapped  applause.  Another 
stood  up,  elevating  a  bumper,  and  exclaimed,  ‘  Yes,  gentlemen, 
I  am  just  as  certain  that  there  is  no  God,  as  I  am  certain  that 
Homer  is  a  fool and,  in  reality,  he  was  as  certain  of  one  as  the 
other,  for  the  company  had  just  spoken  of  Homer  and  of  God, 
and  there  were  among  the  guests  those  who  had  spoken  well  of 
both  the  one  and  the  other. 

“  The  conversation  now  became  more  serious.  The  revolution 
that  Voltaire  had  effected  was  spoken  of  with  admiration;  and 


90 


MEMORANDA. 


it  was  agreed  that  it  was  this  which  formed  the  principal  basis 
of  his  fame.  He  had  given  the  tone  to  his  age;  he  had  written 
in  such  a  manner,  that  he  was  read  in  both  the  ante-chamber  and 
the  drawing-room.  One  of  the  company  related  to  us,  with  a 
loud  laugh,  that  his  hairdresser,  while  powdering  him,  said, 

‘  Look,  sir,  although  I  am  only  a  poor  journeyman,  yet  I  have  no 
more  religion  than  another!’  It  was  concluded  that  the  revolu¬ 
tion  would  be  completed  without  delay,  and  that  superstition 
and  fanaticism  must  make  way  for  philosophy.  The  probable 
period  was  calculated,  and  which  of  the  company  would  have 
the  happiness  of  living  during  the  reign  of  Reason.  The  more 
aged  lamented  that  they  dared  not  flatter  themselves  with  the 
idea;  the  younger  ones  rejoiced  at  the  probability  that  they 
would  live  to  see  it;  and  the  academy,  in  particular,  was  con¬ 
gratulated  on  having  prepared  the  great  work,  and  for  being  the 
focus,  the  center,  and  the  prime  mover,  of  liberty  of  thought. 

“  A  single  individual  had  taken  no  part  in  all  this  pleasant  con¬ 
versation,  and  had  even  very  gently  scattered  some  jokes  upon 
their  noble  enthusiasm.  It  was  M.  Cazotte,  an  amiable  and 
original  man,  but  who,  unfortunately,  was  completely  taken  up 
with  the  reveries  of  those  who  believe  in  a  superior  enlighten¬ 
ing.  He  now  took  up  the  discourse,  and  said  in  the  most  serious 
tone:  ‘Gentlemen,  rejoice;  you  will  all  become  witnesses  of 
that  great  and  sublime  revolution  which  yon  so  much  desire. 
You  know  that  I  apply  myself  a  little  to  prophesying  :  I  repeat 
it,  you  will  all  see  it.’ 

“  ‘  There  requires  no  prophetic  gift  for  that  purpose,’  was  the 
reply. 

“  ‘  True,’  rejoined  he,  ‘but  perhaps  something  more  for  what  I 
am  now  going  to  tell  you.  Do  you  know  what  will  result  from 
this  revolution  ’  (that  is,  when  reason  triumphs  in  opposition  to 
revealed  religion)  ?  ‘  what  it  will  be  to  you  all,  as  many  as  are 
now  here?  what  will  be  its  immediate  consequences,  its  unde¬ 
niable  and  acknowledged  effects?’ 

“  ‘  Let  us  see  !’  said  Oondorcet,  putting  on  an  air  of  simplicity ; 
‘it  is  not  disagreeable  to  a  philosopher  to  meet  with  a  prophet.’ 

“‘You,  M.  Oondorcet,’  continued  M.  Cazotte,  ‘you  will  give 


cazotte’s  prophecy  fulfilled. 


91 


up  the  ghost,  stretched  out  on  the  floor  of  a  subterraneous 
prison.  You  will  die  of  poison,  that  you  will  have  swallowed,  in 
order  to  escape  the  executioner — of  poison,  which  the  happiness 
of  those  times  shall  compel  you  always  to  carry  about  with 
yon  !’ 

“This,  at  first,  excited  great  astonishment;  but  it  was  soon 
remembered  that  the  worthy  Oazotte  sometimes  dreamed  wak¬ 
ing,  and  the  company  burst  out  into  a  loud  laugh.  ‘M.  Ca¬ 
zotte, ’-said  one  of  the  guests,  ‘the  tale  you  relate  to  us  is  not 
near  so  amusing  as  your  “  Devil  in  Love.”  ’  (‘  Le  Viable  Amour- 
cux'  is  a  pretty  little  romance,  written  by  Cazotte.)  ‘What 
devil  has  suggested  to  you  the  dungeon,  the  poison,  and  the  exe¬ 
cutioner?  What  has  this  in  common  with  philosophy  and  the 
reign  of  reason  ?’ 

“  ‘  This  is  just  what  I  tell  you,’  replied  Cazotte.  ‘In  the  name 
of  philosophy,  in  the  name  of  humanity,  liberty,  and  reason,  will 
it  come  to  pass,  that  such  will  be  your  end  :  and  reason  will  then 
certainly  triumph,  for  she  will  have  her  temples;  nay,  at  that 
period,  there  will  be  no  other  temples  in  all  France  than  the 
temples  of  reason.’ 

“‘Truly,’  said  Chamfort,  with  a  sarcastic  smile,  ‘you  will  be 
no  priest  of  these  temples.’ 

“  Oazotte  answered  :  ‘  I  hope  not ;  but  you,  M.  Chamfort,  who 
will  be  one  of  them,  and  are  very  worthy  of  being  so,  you  will 
open  your  veins  by  twenty-two  incisions  of  the  razor,  and  yet 
you  will  die  only  some  months  afterward  !’ 

“The  company  looked  at  each  other,  and  laughed  again. 

“Oazotte  continued:  ‘You,  M.  Vicq.  d’Azyr,  will  not  open 
your  veins  yourself,  but  will  afterward  cause  them  to  be  opened 
six  times  in  one  day  in  an  attack  of  the  gout,  in  order  to  make  the 
matter  more  sure,  and  you  will  die  the  same  night! 

“  ‘You,  M.  Nicolai,  will  die  upon  the  scaffold! — 

“  ‘  You,  M.  Bailiy,  on  the  scaffold! — 

“‘You,  M.  Malesherbes,  on  the  scaffold  !’ 

“‘God  be  thanked!’  exclaimed  M.  Rancher,  ‘it  appears  that 
M.  Oazotte  has  only  to  do  with  the  academicians:  he  has  jnsf 
made  dreadful  havoc  among  them.  I,  Heaven  he  praised — ’ 


92 


MEMORANDA. 


“Cazotte  interrupted  him:  ‘You! — you  will  die  on  the  scaf¬ 
fold  also!’ 

“‘Ha!  this  is  a  wager,’ resounded  from  all  sides;  ‘he  has 
sworn  to  exterminate  us  all !’ 

“  Cazotte.  No,  it  is  not  I  that  have  sworn  it. 

“  The  company.  Shall  we  be  then  under  subjection  to  Turks 
and  Tartars  ?  and  yet — 

Cazotte.  Nothing  less.  I  have  already  told  you  that  you  will 
then  be  under  the  government  of  philosophy  and  reason.  Those 
that  will  treat  you  in  this  manner  will  be  all  philosophers  ;  they 
will  be  continually  making  use  of  those  very  expressions  which 
you  have  been  mouthing  for  the  last  hour ;  they  will  repeat  all 
your  maxims,  and,  like  you,  will  quote  the  verses  of  Diderot  and 
Pucelle. 

“The  guests  whispered  into  each  other’s  ears:  ‘You  see 
clearly  that  he  has  lost  his  reason  ’  (for  while  speaking  thus,  he 
continued  very  serious).  ‘Don’t  you  see  that  he  is  joking,  and 
in  all  his  jests  he  mixes  something  of  the  wonderful?’ — ‘Yes,’ 
said  Chamfort,  ‘  but  I  must  confess  his  wonders  are  not  very 
pleasing ;  they  are  much  too  gallows-like.  And  when  shall  all 
this  take  place  ?’ 

“  Cazotte.  Six  years  shall  not  pass  over  before  all  that  I  have 
told  shall  be  fulfilled  ! 

“  ‘  You  tell  us  many  wonderful  things  ’ — it  was  this  time  I  (La 
Harpe)  that  spoke— ‘and  do  you  say  nothing  of  me?’ 

“  ‘  With  respect  to  you,’  answered  Cazotte,  ‘  a  wonder  will  take 
place  that  will  be  at  least  quite  as  remarkable.  You  will  then  be 
a  Christian !’ 

“A  general  exclamation!  ‘Now  I  am  at  ease,’ said  Cham¬ 
fort  ;  ‘  if  we  only  perish  when  La  Harpe  is  a  Christian,  we  are 
immortal.’ 

“  ‘We  of  the  female  sex,’  said  the  Duchess  de  Gramrnont,  ‘are 
fortunate  in  being  reckoned  as  nothing  in  revolutions.  When  I 
say  as  nothing,  I  do  not  intend  to  say  that  we  do  not  interfere 
in  them  a  little ;  but  it  is  a  generally-received  maxim  that  we, 
and  those  of  our  sex,  are  not  deemed  responsible  on  that  ac¬ 
count.’ 


CAZOTTE  S  PROPHECY  FULFILLED. 


93 


“  Cazotte.  Your  sex,  ladies,  will  be  this  time  no  protection  to 
you;  and  however  little  you  may  be  desirous  of  interfering,  yet 
you  will  be  treated  precisely  as  the  men,  and  no  difference  will 
be  made  with  respect  to  you. 

“  The  Duchess.  But  what  is  it  you  are  telling  us,  M.  Cazotte? 
You  certainly  are  announcing  the  end  of  the  world! 

“ Cazotte.  That  I  know  not;  but  what  I  do  know  is,  that  you, 
my  lady  duchess,  will  be  drawn  to  the  scatfold — you,  and  many 
other  ladies  with  you — upon  a  hurdle,  with  your  hands  bound 
behind  you. 

“ The  Duchess.  I  hope,  however,  in  that  case,  that  I  shall  have 
a  mourning-coach. 

“ Cazotte .  No,  madam!  Ladies  of  higher  rank  than  you  will 
be  drawn  upon  a  hurdle,  with  their  hands  bound  behind 
them. 

“ The  Duchess.  Ladies  of  higher  rank?  What,  the  princesses 
of  the  blood  ? 

“ Cazotte .  Of  still  higher  rank! 

“  A  visible  emotion  now  manifested  itself  through  the  whole 
company,  and  the  master  of  the  house  assumed  an  air  of  dis¬ 
pleasure.  It  began  to  be  evident  that  the  joke  was  carried 
too  far. 

“The  Duchess  de  Grammont,  in  order  to  dispel  the  cloud,  let 
the  last  reply  drop,  and  contented  herself  with  saying,  in  a  most 
jocular  tone,  ‘You  shall  see  he  will  not  even  leave  me  the  con¬ 
solation  of  a  confessor!’ 

'■'•Cazotte.  No,  madam;  none  will  be  given,  either  to  you  or 
any  one  else.  The  last  sufferer  to  whom  the  favor  of  a  confessor 
will  be  granted — (Here  he  paused  a  moment.) 

'■'•The  Duchess.  Well,  who  will  be  the  fortunate  mortal  to 
whom  this  privilege  will  be  granted  ? 

'•'■Cazotte.  It  will  be  the  only  privilege  he  will  retain,  and  this 
will  be  the  king  of  France! 

“  The  master  of  the  house  now  hastily  arose  from  the  table, 
and  the  whole  company  with  him.  He  went  to  M.  Cazotte,  and 
said  with  deep  emotion,  *  My  dear  Cazotte,  this  lamentable  joke 
has  lasted  long  enough.  You  carry  it  too  far,  and  to  a  degree 


94 


MEMORANDA. 


in  which  you  endanger  yourself,  and  the  company  in  tfhicb 
you  are.’ 

“  Oazotte  made  no  reply,  and  was  preparing  to  depart  when 
the  Duchess  de  Grammont,  who  still  endeavored  to  prevent  the  T 
matter  being  taken  in  a  serious  light,  and  labored  to  restore 
hilarity,  went  to  him  and  said,  1  Now,  Mr.  Prophet,  you  have 
told  us  all  our  fortunes,  but  have  said  nothing  of  your  owu 
fate.’ 

“ He  was  silent,  cast  his  eyes  downward,  and  then  said :  ‘Have 
you  ever  read  in  Josephus,  madam,  the  history  of  the  siege  of 
Jerusalem  ?’ 

“ The  Duchess.  Certainly;  who  has  not  read  it?  But  do  as 
though  I  had  never  read  it. 

“ Cazotte .  Well,  madam,  during  this  siege  a  man  went  seven 
successive  days  upon  the  walls  round  the  town,  in  the  sight  of 
both  the  besiegers  and  the  besieged,  and  cried  out  incessantly,  with 
a  mournful  voice,  ‘  Woe  to  Jerusalem !  Woe  to  Jerusalem !’  On 
the  seventh  day  he  cried,  ‘  Woe  to  Jerusalem,  and  woe  to  myself 
also!’  and  in  the  same  moment  he  was  crushed  to  death  by  an 
immense  stone,  hurled  from  the  enemy’s  engines. 

•‘After  these  words,  M.  Oazotte  made  his  bow  and  departed!” 

It  is  certainly  true,  that  all  those  who  were  present 
at  the  dinner  lost  their  lives  precisely  in  the  manner 
here  predicted  by  Cazotte.  The  person  who  gave  the 
entertainment,  to  whom  Cazotte  prophesied  nothing, 
and  who  was  most  probably  the  Duke  de  Chuiseul, 
was  the  only  one  that  died  a  natural  death.  The 

worthy  and  pious  Cazotte  was  guillotined . 

If  it  be  supposed  that  a  fanatic  or  an  enthusiast  had  in¬ 
vented  it  for  the  purpose  of  saying  something  striking, 
the  nature  of  the  narrative  itself,  which  bears  no  re¬ 
semblance  to  fiction,  contradicts  such  a  supposition,  to 
which  must  be  added  the  certainty  that  M.  La  Harpe 
wrote  it  with  his  own  hand.  It  may  bo  found  in  the 


REV.  T.  L.  HARRIS. 


95 


“(Euvres  Choisies  et  Posthumes  ”  of  M.  La  Harpe,  cele¬ 
brated  member  of  the  French  Academy,  published  at 
Paris  by  Mignerol,  in  four  volumes  octavo,  1806. 


34. 


MINISTRATIONS  OF  REV.  T.  L.  HARRIS. 

Willi  amsburgh,  L.  I.,  November  25,  1 847. 

About  eleven  o’clock  this  morning  I  entered  clair¬ 
voyance.*  My  object  was :  the  present  location  and 
prospective  condition  of  the  hard-working  Brother 
Harris.  He  is  growing  exceedingly  nervous  and  im¬ 
pressible,  and  will  become  strangely  susceptible  to  the 
psychological  play  of  spirits — a  very  painful  and  un¬ 
profitable  form  of  mediumship,  from  which  I  would 
most  gladly  shield  him.  But  I  see  that  he  is  lengthen¬ 
ing  the  distance  between  us,  and  presently  it  will  be 
impossible  for  me  to  help  him.  What  an  electrical 
imagination  !  He  looks  like  an  apocalyptic  angel ! 
Through  him,  or  by  the  imaginations  of  his  spirit- 
touched  faculties,  Hades  will  open  and  send  into  the 
world  generations  of  crushed  and  dumb  victims  of 
social  sins;  the  crust  of  society  (he  thinks)  will  crumble 
under  the  enormous  pressure  of  his  pen  ;  the  heavens  will 
send  down  the  fire  of  destruction  upon  guilty  govern 

*  The  reader  should  bear  in  mind  that  since  the  16th  of  May  last,  when 
the  author,  without  the  aid  of  a  magnetizer,  passed  into  the  “Superior 
Condition,’’  he  has  enjoyed  perfect  recollections  of  his  various  percep¬ 
tions  and  investigations. 


06 


MEMORANDA. 


ments ;  and  the  tainted  atmosphere  of  hell  will  sur¬ 
round  all  who  do  not  voluntarily  forsake  their  sins.  .  . 

This  picture  I  get  out  of  his  present  status.  And  yet 
his  mental  powers  have  a  large  promise  of  health  in 
them,  and  energy  and  practicality  ;  and  in  years  to 
come  he  may  recover  his  self-possession,  and  retire  t. 
calmer  views  of  truth  and  humanity. 


35. 

SWEDENBORG  AND  DAVIS  COMPARED. 

New  York,  December  3,  1847. 

An  amiable  and  well-educated  gentleman,  of  the 
New  Jerusalem  persuasion,  put  in  my  hand  this  morn¬ 
ing  an  article  from  the  pen  of  Theophilus  Parsons,  Esq., 
of  Boston.  The  gentleman  politely  said  that,  in  his 
opinion,  it  very  correctly  shows  the  difference  between 
the  disclosures  of  Swedenborg  and  those  which  have 
been  presented  by  Davis  and  other  mesmeric  clairvoy¬ 
ants.  Mr.  Parsons  thus  proceeds : — 

“  Now  let  us  compare  this  case  with  that  of  Swedenborg.  We 
perceive  at  once  this  important  point  of  difference.  Mr.  Davis’s 
normal,  or  natural,  or  common  state,  has  no  apparent  connection 
whatever  with  his  clairvoyant  state.  Doubtless  there  is  a  con¬ 
nection  which  we  can  not  perceive,  between  the  peculiarities  of 
his  constitution — physical,  intellectual,  or  moral — and  this  extra¬ 
ordinary  clairvoyance.  But  it  is  certain  that  neither  the  amount 
nor  the  character  of  his  knowledge  while  clairvoyant,  have  any 
perceptible  relation  whatever  with  the  amount  or  character  of 
his  knowledge  in  the  natural  state.  These  two  things  do  not  dif¬ 
fer  in  degrees  ;  that  is,  Davis  does  not  know  a  little  of  cosmogony 


SWEDENBORG  AND  DAVIS. 


97 


anil  philosophy,  and  think  a  little  about  them  in  his  natural  state, 
and  then  know  and  think  a  vast  deal  more  on  the  same  subjects 
while  clairvoyant;  but  in  this  last  state  he  has  a  marvelous 
quantity  of  knowledge  on  topics  whereon  in  his  natural  state  he 
has  never  in  his  life  known  or  thought  any  one  thing  great  or 
small. 

“  In  the  next  place,  it  does  not  at  all  appear  that  Davis’s  fit¬ 
ness  or  capability  for  this  clairvoyance,  or  for  the  learning  he 
there  acquires  or  utters,  is  the  result  of  any  intellectual  training. 
He  has  never  been  a  student,  never  a  practiced  and  logical 
thinker;  and  has  never  acquired,  by  careful  discipline  and  sus¬ 
tained  endeavor,  the  power  of  profound  and  coherent  meditation. 
It  is  not  by  reason  of  these  things,  or  of  any  of  them,  in  any  de¬ 
gree,  that  he  is  able  to  learn  and  tell  in  a  state  of  clairvoyance 
the  wonders  of  cosmogony,  or  of  any  branches  of  science  or  phi¬ 
losophy. 

“The  next  thing  to  observe  (and  it  is  one  of  great  iin 
portance)  is,  that  Davis,  in  his  natural  state ,  knows  nothing 
whatever  of  his  magnetical  state.  They  who  looked  on  and  saw 
can  tell  him  what  was  done  to  him  and  what  he  did  ;  they  who 
listened  and  took  notes  can  repeat  to  him  what  he  said  ;  but  of 
all  this  he  knows  nothing  himself ;  absolutely  nothing  more  than 
if  the  Davis  of  the  one  state  and  the  Davis  of  the  other  were  two 
persons,  living  in  distant  countries,  without  any  intercourse  with, 
or  any  knowledge  of,  each  other.  And  when  they  who  heard 
him  repeat  to  him  what  he  had  said,  they  repeat  it  for  the  most 
part  in  vain,  for  he  can  comprehend  it  but  very  imperfectly  ;  his 
own  reason  has  not  the  preparation  nor  the  power  required  to 
ascend  to  this  lofty  elevation.  Thus  it  is  with  Mr.  Davis;  and 
all  of  this  is  in  accordance  with  the  usual  phenomena  of  mesmeric 
clairvoyance,  of  which  Mr.  Davis  may  well  be  regarded  as  a 
type. 

“And  now  how  is  it  with  Swedenborg?  In  the  first  place,  he 
was  prepared  for  his  illumination  not  only  by  a  thoroughly  moral 
and  religious  character,  but  by  very  many  years  most  diligently 
and  most  successfully  devoted  to  the  acquisition  of  a  vast  fund  of 
knowledge.  And  this  learning,  immense  in  its  extent,  and  era- 


98 


MEMORANDA. 


bracing  most  of  the  branches  of  science,  was  nevertheless  closely 
and  definitely  related  to  the  higher  learning  which  he  afterward 
acquired.  I.t  in  fact  became  the  foundation  of  his  spiritual  knowl¬ 
edge,  and  served  him  in  comprehending  spiritual  truths  in  all 
their  relations,  and  in  illustrating  them  for  the  minds  of  others. 
In  the  next  place,  he  was  prepared  for  his  illumination  by  a  long 
and  careful  intellectual  discipline.  Naturally  a  close  and  stead¬ 
fast  thinker,  he  became,  by  study,  one  of  the  first  mathematicians 
in  the  world ;  and  the  effect  of  this  exact  and  rigorous  science 
was  to  give  clearness,  precision,  and  accuracy  to  his  reasoning 
powers.  And  all  this  was  for  the  end  that  he  might  use  these 
powers  in  understanding  spiritual  truth  when  it  should  be  opened 
for  him.  It  was  designed  for  this  end,  and  it  had  this  effect. 
His  eyes  were  opened,  and  he  saw  things  of  the  spiritual  world ; 
his  ears  were  opened,  and  he  heard  its  wisdom  ;  and  because  of 
the  thorough  preparation  of  his  wonderful  mind,  he  understood 
what  he  saw,  and  drew  just  inferences  from  the  phenomena 
around  him,  and  grew  in  the  wisdom  of  heaven  while  yet  an  in¬ 
habitant  of  earth.  Lastly,  and  most  importantly,  between  the 
state  of  Swedenborg  when  under  illumination,  and  his  normal, 
natural,  or  common  condition,  there  was  no  separation,  no  dis¬ 
union,  no  impassable  abyss.  What  he  saw  or  learnt  while  under 
spiritual  illumination,  made  him  wiser  in  his  natural  condition.* 
It  was  for  the  purpose  of  becoming  wiser  in  his  natural  condition, 
that  his  eyes  were  opened,  and  his  preternatural  condition  in¬ 
duced;  because  it  was  in  and  through  his  natural  and  normal 
faculties,  and  by  his  own  laborious  exertion  of  these  faculties, 
that  the  effect  of  his  own  growth  in  knowledge  and  wisdom  was 
to  be  produced  upon  the  world. 

“  But  Swedenborg  and  Davis  agree  in  this,  that  their  knowl¬ 
edge  comes  to  them  in  ways  which  are  not  the  common  ways  of 
human  nature.  Just  so  far  as  this  goes,  there  is  an  analogy  be¬ 
tween  them  ;  but  here  is  its  precise  limit ;  for  if  we  go  a  step 

*  Judge  Parsons  wrote  this  criticism  in  January,  1847,  at  which  time 
my  state,  when  magnetized,  was  precisely  as  described  by  him ;  but  on 
the  16th  of  May,  1847  (the  same  year),  my  two  conditions  became 
blended,  and  still  continues  precisely  analogous  to  that  of  Swedenborg. 


SWEDENBORG  AND  DAVIS. 


99 


further ;  if  we  look  to  see  whether  the  ways  are  the  same  or 
similar  in  the  two  men,  we  shall  find,  instead  of  resemblance  or 
analogy  between  them,  the  marks  of  difference,  of  contrast,  of 
opposition.  ...  In  a  few  words,  and  to  use  an  important 
distinction,  made  by  Swedenborg  himself,  it  is  not  accurate  to 
say  that  the  wisdom  of  the  heavens  came  through  Swedenborg 
to  the  earth  ;  but  that  it  came  first  to  Swedenborg,  and  being 
possessed  by  him,  came  forth  from  him,  by  his  own  act,  done  as 
of  himself. 

“  We  suppose  nothing  of  this  kind,  and  nothing  at  all  like  it  is 
true  in  the  case  of  Davis,  or  of  any  mesmeric  clairvoyant.  There, 
the  rationality  of  the  individual  is  silenced,  superseded,  sup¬ 
pressed  ;  or,  it  is  occupied  and  used  by  others ;  his  freedom  is 
annihilated.  In  some  cases,  the  hands  and  limbs  move  in  obe¬ 
dience  to  the  will  of  another,  and  the  tongue  tastes,  the  eyes  see, 
the  ears  hear,  and  the  nose  smells,  as  if  the  soul  of  that  other 
was  within  them;  and  in  other  cases,  the  subject  is  invigorated 
with  a  life  not  his  own,  his  eye  brightens,  and  his  lips  pour  forth 
the  knowledge  and  thoughts  of  other  minds,  while  the  subject 
himself  has  no  more  to  do  with  all  this  than  the  air  whose  undu¬ 
lations  make  the  sounds  he  utters — no  more  than  if  he  were 
dead,  and  it  were  possible  to  reanimate  his  corpse,  and  make  it 
vocal  by  galvanism  or  magic.  After  a  while  this  possession 
passes  away.  The  subject  returns  to  his  normal  state;  he  is  no 
longer  a  subject  in  any  sense,  but  free  ;  no  longer  another,  but 
himself.  And  then  how  is  it?  Every  man  who  heard  him 
speak  has  somewhat  of  what  he  said  when  mesmerized;  the 
sense,  if  it  were  comprehensible,  or  the  sound  of  the  words  at 
all  events  in  his  memory ;  but  the  subject,  or  he  who  was  the 
subject  and  then  poured  forth  this  utterance,  has  of  it  all  now, 
now  that  he  is  himself  nothing.  What  else,  then,  can  we  con¬ 
clude,  than  that  the  state  of  Swedenborg  is  as  opposite  to  tlio 
state  of  a  clairvoyant,  as  earnest  of  a  high  rationality  is  opposite 
to  its  inaction  ;  as  being  one’s  own  is  opposite  to  being  another's , 
as  freedom  itself  is  opposite  to  the  absolute  control  of  another; 
as  the  full  and  rejoicing  exercise  of  all  that  constitutes  the  free, 


100 


MEMORANDA. 


rational,  conscious  individual,  is  opposite  to  its  sleep,  suspension, 
or  suppression?” 


36. 


MYSTERIOUS  DEVELOPMENTS  IN  WESTERN  NEW  YORK. 

W illi a msburgh,  March  31,  1848. 

About  daylight  this  morning,  a  warm  breathing 
passed  over  my  face,  suddenly  waking  me  from  a  pro¬ 
found  slumber ;  and  I  heard  a  voice,  tender  and  yet 
peculiarly  strong,  saying  :  “  Brother  !  The  good  worJc 
has  begun — behold ,  a  living  demonstration  is  born  /” 
.  .  .  .  The  breathing  and  the  voice  ceased  imme¬ 

diately,  and  I  was  left  wondering  what  could  be  meant 
by  such  a  message.* 


37. 


REMARKABLE  WARNINGS  AND  PROVIDENCES. 

Poughkeepsie,  May  4, 1848. 

A  friend  has  sent  me  this  extract  from  Jung 
Stilling:  The  proof  of  the  truth  of  the  following 
statement,  taken  from  the  Courrier  de  V  Europe ,  rests 
upon  the  fact  that  the  whole  occurrence  is  registered  in 
the  judicial  records  of  the  criminal  trials  of  the  Prov¬ 
ince  of  Languedoc.  We  give  it  as  we  heard  it  from 

*Afteiward  I  learned  that,  at  this  time,  spirit  communication  was 
established  at  Hydesville,  New  York. 


WARNINGS  AND  PROVIDENCES. 


101 


the  lips  of  the  dreamer,  as  nearly  as  possible  in  his  own 
words. 

As  a  junior  partner  in  a  commercial  house  at  Lyons 
I  had  been  traveling  for  some  time  in  the  month  of 
June,  1761.  I  arrived  at  a  town  in  Languedoc,  where  I 
had  never  before  been.  I  put  up  at  a  quiet  inn  in  the 
suburbs,  and  being  very  much  fatigued,  ordered  dinner 
at  once,  and  went  to  bed  almost  immediately  after,  de¬ 
termined  to  begin  very  early  in  the  morning  my  visits 
to  the  different  merchants. 

I  was  no  sooner  in  bed  than  I  fell  into  a  deep  sleep, 
and  had  a  dream  that  made  the  strongest  impression 
upon  me. 

I  thought  that  I  had  arrived  at  the  same  town,  but 
in  the  middle  of  the  day  instead  of  the  evening,  as  was 
really  the  case — that  I  had  stopped  at  the  very  same 
inn,  and  gone  out  immediately  as  an  unoccupied 
stranger  would  do,  to  see  whatever  was  worthy  of  ob¬ 
servation  in  the  place.  I  walked  down  the  main  street 
into  another  street,  crossing  it  at  right  angles,  and  ap¬ 
parently  leading  into  the  country.  I  had  not  gone 
very  far  when  I  came  to  a  church,  the  Gothic  portal  of 
which  I  stopped  to  examine.  When  I  had  satisfied  my 
curiosity,  I  advanced  to  a  by-path  which  branched  off 
from  the  main  street.  Obeying  an  impulse  which  I 
could  neither  account  for  nor  control,  I  struck  into  this 
path,  though  it  was  winding,  rugged,  and  unfrequented, 
and  presently  reached  a  miserable  cottage,  in  front  of 
which  was  a  garden  covered  with  weeds.  I  had  no 
difficulty  in  getting  into  the  garden,  for  the  hedge  had 
several  gaps  in  it  wide  enough  to  admit  four  carts 
abreast.  I  approached  an  old  well  which  stood,  soli- 


102 


MEMORANDA. 


tary  and  gloomy,  in  a  distant  corner,  and  looking  down 
into  it  I  beheld  distinctly,  without  any  possibility  of  mis¬ 
take,  a  corpse,  which  had  been  stabbed  in  several  places. 
I  counted  the  deep  wounds  and  the  wide  gashes  whence 
the  blood  was  flowing. 

I  would  have  cried  out  ;  but  my  tongue  clove  to  the 
roof  of  my  mouth.  At  this  moment  I  awoke  with  my 
hair  on  end,  trembling  in  every  limb,  and  cold  drops 
of  perspiration  bedewing  my  forehead — awoke  to  find 
myself  comfortably  in  bed,  my  trunk  standing  beside 
me;  birds  warbling  cheerfully  around  the  window; 
whilst  a  young,  clear  voice  was  singing  a  provincial  air 
in  the  next  room,  and  the  morning  sun  was  shining 
bright!}7  through  the  curtain. 

I  sprang  from  my  bed,  dressed  myself,  and  as  it  was 
yet  very  early  I  thought  I  would  seek  an  appetite  for 
my  breakfast  by  a  morning  walk.  I  went  accordingly 
into  the  street  and  strolled  along.  The  further  I  went 
the  stronger  became  the  confused  recollection  of  the 
objects  that  presented  themselves  to  my  view.  “It  is 
very  strange,”  I  thought,  “  I  have  never  been  here  be¬ 
fore,  and  I  could  swear  that  I  have  seen  this  house  and 
the  next,  and  that  other  on  the  left.”  On  I  went 
till  I  came  to  the  corner  of  the  street  crossing  the  one 
down  which  I  had  come.  For  the  first  time  I  remem¬ 
bered  my  dream,  but  put  away  the  thought  as  too  ab¬ 
surd,  still,  at  every  step  I  took,  some  fresh  point  of  re¬ 
semblance  struck  me.  “  Am  I  still  dreaming  ?”  I  ex¬ 
claimed,  not  without  a  momentary  thrill  through  my 
whole  frame.  “  Is  the  agreement  to  be  perfect  to  the 
very  end  ?”  Before  long  I  reached  the  church  with  the 
same  architectural  features  that  had  attracted  my  no- 


WARNINGS  AND  PROVIDENCES. 


103 


tice  in  the  dream,  and  then  the  high  road,  along  which 
I  pursued  my  way,  coming  at  length  to  the  same  by¬ 
path  that  had  presented  itself  to  my  imagination  a  few 
hours  before — there  was  no  possibility  of  doubt  or  mis¬ 
take.  Every  tree,  every  turn,  was  familiar  to  me.  I 
was  not  at  all  of  a  superstitious  turn;  and  was  wholly 
engrossed  in  the  practical  details  of  commercial  busi¬ 
ness.  My  mind  had  never  dwelt  upon  the  hallucina- 
tions,  the  presentiments  that  science  either  denies  or  is 
unable  to  explain,  but  I  must  confess  that  I  now  felt 
myself  spell-bound  as  by  some  enchantment — and,  with 
Pascal’s  words  on  my  lips — “  A  continued  dream  would 
be  equal  to  reality,”  I  hurried  forward,  no  longer 
doubting  that  the  next  moment  would  bring  me  to  the 
cottage,  and  this  really  was  the  case.  In  all  its  outward 
circumstances  it  corresponded  to  what  I  had  seen  in 
my  dream.  Who  then  could  wonder  that  I  determined 
to  ascertain  whether  the  coincidence  would  hold  good 
in  every  other  point !  I  entered  the  garden  and  went 
direct  to  the  spot  on  which  I  had  seen  the  well ;  but 
here  the  resemblance  failed — well  there  was  none.  I 
looked  in  every  direction,  examined  the  whole  garden, 
went  round  the  cottage,  which  appeared  to  be  inhabit¬ 
ed,  although  no  person  was  visible,  but  nowhere  could 
I  find  any  vestige  of  a  well. 

I  made  no  attempt  to  enter  the  cottage,  but  hastened 
back  to  the  hotel  in  a  state  of  agitation  difficult  to  de¬ 
scribe  ;  I  could  not  make  up  my  mind  to  pass  unnoticed 
such  extraordinary  coincidences — -but  how  was  any  clue 
to  be  obtained  to  the  terrible  mystery  % 

I  went  to  the  landlord,  and  after  chatting  with  him 
for  some  time  on  different  subjects,  I  came  to  the  point 


104 


MEMORANDA. 


and  asked  him  directly  to  whom  the  cottage  belonged 
that  was  on  a  by-road  which  I  described  to  him. 

“  I  wonder,  sir,”  said  he,  “  what  made  you  take  such 
particular  notice  of  such  a  wretched  little  hovel.  It  is 
inhabited  by  an  old  man  with  his  wife,  who  have  the 
character  of  being  very  morose  and  unsociable.  They 
rarely  leave  the  house,  see  nobody,  and  nobody  goes  to 
see  them;  but  they  are  quiet  enough,  and  I  never 
heard  any  thing  against  them  beyond  this.  Of  late, 
their  very  existence  seems  to  have  been  forgotten ;  and, 
I  believe,  sir,  that  you  are  the  first  who,  for  years,  has 
turned  your  steps  to  the  deserted  spot.” 

These  details,  far  from  satisfying  my  curiosity,  did 
but  provoke  it  the  more.  Breakfast  was  served,  but  I 
could  not  touch  it,  and  I  felt  that  if  I  presented  myself 
to  the  merchants  in  such  a  state  of  excitement,  they 
would  think  me  mad;  and,  indeed  I  felt  very  much 
excited.  I  paced  up  and  down  the  room,  looked  out 
at  the  window,  trying  to  fix  my  attention  on  some  ex¬ 
ternal  object ;  but  in  vain.  I  endeavored  to  interest 
myself  in  a  quarrel  between  two  men  in  the  street — 
but  the  garden  and  the  cottage  pre-occupied  my  mind  ; 
and,  at  last,  snatching  my  hat,  I  cried — “  I  will  go,  come 
what  may.” 

I  repaired  to  the  nearest  magistrate,  told  him  the  ob¬ 
ject  of  my  visit,  and  related  the  whole  circumstance 
briefly  and  clearly.  I  saw  directly  that  he  was  much 
i  mpressed  by  my  statement. 

“  It  is  indeed  very  strange,”  said  he,  “  and  after  what 
has  happened,  I  do  not  think  I  am  at  liberty  to  leave  the 
matter  without  further  inquiry.  Important  business 
will  prevent  my  accompanying  yon  in  a  search,  but  J 


WARNINGS  AND  PROVIDENCES.  105 

will  place  two  of  the  police  at  your  command.  Go 
once  more  to  the  hovel,  see  its  inhabitants,  and  search 
every  part  of  it.  You  may  perhaps  make  some  import¬ 
ant  discovery.” 

I  suffered  but  a  very  few  moments  to  elapse  before  1 
was  on  my  way,  accompanied  by  the  two  officers,  and 
we  soon  reached  the  cottage.  We  knocked,  and  after 
waiting  some  time  an  old  man  opened  the  door.  IIo 
received  us  somewhat  uncivilly,  but  showed  no  mark  of 
suspicion,  nor,  indeed,  of  any  other  emotion  when  we 
told  him  we  wished  to  search  the  house. 

“Very  well,  gentlemen,  as  fast  and  as  soon  as  you 
like,”  was  his  reply. 

“  Have  you  a  well  here  ?”  I  inquired. 

“  Ho,  sir  ;  we  are  obliged  to  go  for  water  to  aspring 
at  a  considerable  distance.” 

We  searched  the  house,  which  I  did,  I  confess,  with 
a  kind  of  feverish  excitement,  expecting  every  moment 
to  bring  some  fatal  secret  to  light.  Meanwhile,  the 
man  gazed  upon  us  with  an  impenetrable  vacancy  of 
look,  and  we  at  last  left  the  cottage  without  seeing  any¬ 
thing  that  could  confirm  my  suspicions.  I  resolved  to 
inspect  the  garden  once  more,  and  a  number  of  idlers 
having  been  by  this  time  collected,  drawn  to  the  spot 
by  the  sight  of  a  stranger  with  two  armed  men  engaged 
in  searching  the  prefnises,  I  made  inquiries  of  some 
of  them  whether  they  knew  any  thing  about  a  well  in 
that  place.  I  could  get  no  information  at  first,  but  at 
length  an  old  woman  came  slowly  forward,  leaning 
on  a  crutch. 

“  A  well !”  cried  she.  “  Is  it  the  well  you  are  look¬ 
ing  after?  That  has  been  gone  these  thirty  years.  I 

6* 


106 


MEMORANDA. 


remember  it  as  if  it  was  only  yesterday,  how,  marry  a 
time,  when  I  was  a  young  girl  I  used  to  amuse  myself 
throwing  stones  into  it,  and  hearing  the  splash  they  used 
to  make  in  the  water.” 

“  And  could  you  tell  where  that  well  used  to  he  ?”  I 
asked,  almost  breathless  with  excitement. 

“  As  near  as  I  can  remember ;  on  the  very  spot  on 
which  your  honor  is  standing,”  said  the  old  woman. 

“  I  could  have  sworn  it,”  thought  I,  springing  from 
the  place  as  if  I  had  trod  upon  a  scorpion. 

Need  I  say  that  we  set  to  work  to  dig  up  the  ground. 
At  about  eighteen  inches  deep  we  came  to  a  layer  of 
bricks,  which  being  broken  up,  gave  to  view  some  boards 
which  were  easily  removed,  after  which  we  beheld  the 
mouth  of  the  well. 

“I  was  quite  sure  it  was  here,”  said  the  woman. 
“  What  a  fool  the  old  fellow  was  to  stop  it  up,  and  then 
have  to  go  so  far  for  water!” 

A  sounding-line  furnished  with  hooks  was  now  let 
down  into  the  well ;  the  crowd  pressing  around  us,  and 
breathlessly  bending  over  the  dark  and  fetid  hole,  the 
secrets  of  which  seemed  hidden  in  impenetrable  ob¬ 
scurity.  This  was  repeated  several  times,  without  any 
result.  At  length,  penetrating  below  the  mud,  the  hooks 
caught  in  an  old  chest,  upon  the  top  of  which  had  been 
thrown  a  great  many  large  stones,  and  after  much  time 
and  effort,  we  succeeded  in  raising  it  to  daylight.  The 
sides  and  lid  were  decayed  and  rotten  ;  it  needed  no 
locksmith  to  open  it,  and  we  found  within  what  I  was 
certain  we  should  find,  and  which  paralyzed  with  horror 
all  the  spectators  who  had  not  my  pre-convictions- -we 
found  the  remains  of  a  human  body. 


WARNINGS  AND  PROVIDENCES. 


107 


The  police  officers  who  had  accompanied  me,  now 
rushed  into  the  house,  and  secured  the  person  of  the  old 
man.  As  to  his  wife— no  one  could,  at  first,  tell  what 
had  become  of  her;  after  some  search,  however,  she  was 
found  hidden  behind  a  bundle  of  fagots. 

By  this  time,  nearly  the  whole  town  had  gathered 
around  the  spor,  and  now  that  this  horrible  fact  had 
come  to  light,  everybody  had  some  crime  to  tell  of, 
which  had  been  laid  to  the  charge  of  the  old  couple. 
The  people  who  predict  after  an  event  are  numerous. 

The  old  couple  were  brought  before  the  proper  author¬ 
ities  and  privately  and  sepai’ately  examined.  The  old 
man  persisted  in  his  denial  most  pertinaciously,  but  his 
wife  at  length  confessed,  that  in  concert  with  her  hus¬ 
band  she  had  once,  a  very  long  time  ago,  murdered  a 
peddler  whom  they  had  met  one  night  on  the  high  road, 
and  who  had  been  incautious  enough  to  tell  them  of  a 
considerable  sum  of  money  which  he  had  about  him, 
and  whom,  in  consequence,  they  induced  to  pass  the 
night  at  their  house.  They  had  taken  advantage  of  the 
heavy  sleep  induced  by  fatigue,  to  strangle  him,  his  body 
had  been  put  into  the  chest,  the  chest  thrown  into  the 
well  and  the  well  stopped  up. 

The  peddler  being  from  another  country,  his  disappear¬ 
ance  occasioned  no  inquiry  ;  there  was  no  witness  of 
the  crime ;  and  as  its  traces  had  been  carefully  concealed 
from  every  eye,  the  two  criminals  had  good  reason  to 
believe  themselves  secure  from  detection.  They  had 
not,  however,  been  aide  to  silence  the  voice  of  conscience ; 
they  fled  from  the  sight  of  their  fellow-men  ;  they 
thought  they  beheld  wherever  they  turned,  mute  ac¬ 
cusers;  they  trembled  at  the  slightest  noise,  ai.d  silence 


10S 


MEMORANDA. 


thrilled  them  with  terror.  They  had  uften  formed  a 
determination  to  leave  the  scene  of  their  crime,  to  fly  to 
some  distant  land,  but  still  some  undefinable  fascina¬ 
tion  kept  them  near  the  remains  of  their  victim. 

Terrified  by  the  deposition  of  his  wife,  and  unable  to 
resist  the  overwhelming  proofs  against  him,  the  man  at 
length  made  a  similar  confession,  and,  six  weeks  after, 
the  unhappy  criminals  died  on  the  scaffold,  in  accord¬ 
ance  with  the  sentence  of  the  Parliament  of  Toulouse. 
They  died  penitent. 

The  well  was  once  more  shut  up,  and  the  cottage  lev¬ 
eled  to  the  ground ;  it  was  not,  however,  until  fifty 
years  had  in  some  measure  deadened  the  memory  of  the 
terrible  transaction,  that  the  ground  was  cultivated.  It 
is  now  a  fine  field  of  corn. 

Such  was  the  dream  and  its  result. 

I  never  had  the  courage  to  revisit  the  town  where  I 
had  been  an  actor  in  such  a  tragedy.  The  story  was 
told  again  by  me  last  winter  in  a  company  where  it 
gave  rise  to  a  long  and  animated  discussion  upon  the 
credibility  to  be  attached  to  dreams.  Ancient  and 
modern  history  was  ransacked  to  find  arguments  on 
both  sides.  Plutarch  was  quoted  in  what  he  says  of  a  cer¬ 
tain  Lysimachus,  grandson  to  Aristides,  who  embraced 
the  profession  of  interpreter  of  dreams,  and  realized 
wealth  by  the  trade — Cicero  states  that  a  dream  of  Ce¬ 
cilia,  daughter  of  Barbaricus,  appeared  to  be  of  suffi¬ 
cient  importance  to  be  a  subject  of  a  decree  of  the 
Senate.  One  of  the  most  indefatigable  commentators 
of  the  sixteenth  century,  Coelius  Rhodizinus,  when 
laboring  to  correct  the  text  of  Pliny  which  he  has 
singularly  obscured,  was  stopped  by  the  word  ectrapelis. 


RETURNING  TO  THE  PULPIT. 


JO) 

In  vain  did  he  work  at  the  meaning  for  a  whole  week — 
he  ended  by  falling  asleep — and  in  a  dream  the  solution 
of  the  difficulty  came  into  his  head.  It  was  during 
sleep  that  Henricus  Van  Heeres,  a  Dutch  writer,  very 
celebrated  in  his  day,  but  very  obscure  in  ours,  composed 
all  his  works ;  once  awake,  he  had  but  to  transcribe 
from  memory. 


RETURNING  TO  THE  PULPIT. 

Poughkeepsie,  May  9,  1848. 

Yesterday’s  mail  brought  me  a  kindly  note  from  a 
New  York  artist.  He  informs  me  that  Brother  Harris, 
the  brilliant  preacher  and  poet,  is  already  returning  to 
the  pulpit.  He  says  that  the  exercises  on  Sunday  after 
noon,  in  the  Coliseum,  were  attended  by  a  large  and 
highly  intellectual  audience.  Among  those  present, 
he  noticed  Rev.  W.  H.  Channing,  of  Boston,  Horace 
Greeley,  and  Freeman  Hunt,  and  many  other  eminent 
citizens.  The  discourse  was  on  the  “  Religious  Tenden¬ 
cies  of  the  Age.”  Arrangements  will  be  made  during 
the  week  for  obtaining  a  hall  in  Broadway,  and  the  poet 
will  preach  at  least  once  on  every  Sunday.  It  is  be¬ 
lieved  that  one  of  the  largest  and  most  intellectual 
congregations  in  the  city  will  speedily  be  gathered 

around  the  inspiring  minister . This  news 

does  not  surprise  me,  neither  would  it  astonish  me  to 
hear  that  Brother  H.  had  renounced  the  sp  ritual  idea 
of  infinite  progression,  and  returned  to  the  bosom  of 
the  endless  punishment  church. 


1 10 


MEMORANDA. 


39. 

IGREEMENT  EETWEEN  SWEDENBORG  AND  DAVIS. 

Poughkeepsie,  May  15,  1848. 

My  impression  this  beautiful  morning  is  to  call  the 
world’s  attention  to  fundamental  agreements  between 
the  teachings  of  clairvoyance  and  those  of  Swedenborg. 
Let  his  “  friends  ”  read  the  following  : — 

That  the  end  of  Creation  is  a  Heaven  out  of 
the  Human  Race. — That  heaven  consists  only  of  such 
as  were  born  men,  ....  and  as  heaven  does  not  consist 
of  any  others,  it  follows  that  the  end  of  creation  is  a  heaven 
out  of  the  human  race.  But  the  same  will  be  still  more 
manifestly  seen  from  an  explanation  of  the  following 
points :  1.  That  every  man  is  created  to  live  to  eternity. 
2.  That  every  man  is  created  to  live  to  eternity  in  a 
state  of  happiness.  3.  That  every  man  is  created  to  go 
to  heaven.  4.  That  the  divine  Love  can  not  do  other¬ 
wise  than  desire  it,  and  that  the  divine  Wisdom  can  not 
do  otherwise  than  provide  for  it.  Since,  from  these 
considerations  it  may  also  be  seen  that  the  Divine 
Providence  is  no  other  predestination  than  to  heaven, 
and  that  it  can  not  be  changed  into  any  other,  it  is  here 
to  be  demonstrated,  in  the  order  proposed,  that  the  end 
of  creation  is  a  heaven  out  of  the  human  race.— D.  P. 
323,  324. 


FUNDAMENTAL  AGREEMENTS. 


Ill 


That  to  suppose  that  those  only  are  saved  who 

ARE  BORN  WITHIN  THE  CHURCH,  IS  AN  INSANE  HERESY. - 

Those  who  are  born  without  the  Church  are  men,  as 
well  as  those  who  are  born  within  it ;  they  are  of  the 
same  heavenly  origin,  and  are  equally  living  and  im¬ 
mortal  souls ;  they  have  a  religion  by  which  they 
acknowledge  that  there  is  a  God,  and  that  they  ought 
to  live  well ;  and  he  that  acknowledges  that  there  is  a 
God,  and  lives  well,  becomes  spiritual  in  his  degree  and 
is  saved. 

That  to  suppose  any  of  the  Human  Race  are 
Predestined  to  be  Damned,  is  a  cruel  Heresy. — 
For  it  is  cruel  to  think  that  the  Lord,  who  is  Love 
itself,  and  Mercy  itself,  would  suffer  so  vast  a  multitude 
of  men  to  be  born  for  hell,  or  that  so  many  myriads  of 
myriads  should  be  born  condemned  and  devoted,  that 
is,  born  devils  and  Satans ;  and  that  he  would  not  out 
of  his  divine  wisdom  provide,  that  those  who  live  well 
and  acknowledge  a  God,  should  not  be  cast  into  ever¬ 
lasting  fire  and  torment . He  alone  leads  all, 

and  wills  not  the  death  of  any  one.  Therefore  it  is 
cruel  to  think  and  believe  that  so  great  a  multitude  of 
nations  and  people  under  his  auspices  and  inspection, 
should  be  predestined  to  be  delivered  as  a  prey  to  the 
devil. — D.  P.  330. 

That  these  are  the  Common  Essence  of  all  Reli¬ 
gions  by  which  every  one  is  saved. — To  acknowl¬ 
edge  a  God,  and  not  to  do  evil  because  it  is  against 
God,  are  the  two  things  by  virtue  of  which  religion  is 
religion.  If  one  of  them  is  wanting,  it  can  not  be  called 
religion  ;  for  to  acknowledge  a  God,  and  to  do  evil  is 
contradictory,  as  well  as  to  do  good  and  not  ackn  >wl- 


112 


MEMORANDA. 


edge  a  God  :  one  does  not  take  place  without  the  other 
It  is  provided  by  the  Lord  that  there  is  some  religion 
almost  everywhere,  and  that  in  every  religion  there 
are  these  two  essentials. — D.  P.  326. 


40. 

DUG’S  STORY  OF  THE  LIVES  OF  TWO  BOYS. 

Poughkeepsie,  June  4, 1848. 

A  curious  circumstance  occurred  about  two  hours 
ago.  Passing  a  newspaper  and  periodical  store  on 
Main  street,  idly  musing  as  I  went,  all  at  once  I  heard 
a  tongue  distinctly  speak  near  my  left  ear  : — “  Read 
Dug's  Yarn!  Remember  your  promise  !  Read  Dug's 
Story  of  the  Two  Boys  /”  Instantly,  the  incidents  ot 
the  visit  from  the  old  sailor,  last  year,  came  back  into 
my  mind.  I  entered  the  store.  On  looking  and  hand¬ 
ling  over  the  papers,  a  hot  sensation  from  one  attracted 
my  attention.  I  examined  the  paper,  and  found  a  part 
of  a  story,  by  Douglas  Jerrold,  giving  the  history  of 
the  lives  of  two  boys,  of  whom  one  was  born  to  wealth, 
rank,  education,  respectability,  and  luxury  ;  the  other 
to  famine,  ignorance,  shame,  vice,  and  crime.  “  St. 
Giles,”  has  been  tried  for  stealing  the  pony  of  “  St. 
James,”  and  found  guilty.  It  will  be  keeping  mv 
promise  to  read  “  Dug’s  Story,”  of  which  the  following 
is  the  fragment : — 

“  Guiltv — Death  !” 

What  familiar  syllables  were  these  in  the  good  old 
times — the  time  of  our  history  !  In  those  happier 


LIVES  OF  TWO  BOYS. 


113 


days,  how  many  goods  and  chattels,  live  stock  and  dead, 
were  protected,  watched  by  Death  !  Death  was  made 
by  law  the  guardian  of  all  things.  Prime  agent,  great 
conservator  of  social  security — grim  keeper  of  the 
world’s  movables.  Death,  a  shepherd,  avenged  the 
wrongs  of  stolen  mutton  :  Death  stood  behind  every 
counter,  protector  of  chapman’s  stock  ;  Death  was  the 
day  and  the  night  guard  of  the  highway  traveler  against 
the  highway  thief ;  Death  watched  ox  and  ass ;  the 
goose  on  the  common,  the  hen  on  the  roost.  Even  at 
the  altar,  Deatli  took  his  cautious  stand,  that  Hymen 
might  not  be  scoffed,  defrauded  by  wicked  bigamist. 
Turn  where  he  would,  the  rogue’s  path  was  dug  with 
graves.  Nevertheless,  the  world  grew  no  better  ;  made 
no  visible  return  to  that  happy  state,  ere  hemp  was 
made  a  sovereign  remedy  for  wrong.  And  so  by  de¬ 
grees,  Death  lost  somewhat  of  his  reputation  with  the 
members  of  the  world ;  and  by  degrees  many  things 
were  taken  out  of  his  charge.  It  was  found  that — - 
sheep  were  stolen — tradesmen’s  goods  lifted — pockets 
picked — hen-roosts  forced — and  maids  wickedly  married 
by  men  already  bound — it  was  seen  that  these  abomina¬ 
tions  continued  and  increased,  ay,  in  the  very  face  of 
the  great  ghastly  bugbear,  Death,  and  so  his  watch  and 
ward  were  made  a  lighter  task  ;  he  was  gradually  re¬ 
lieved  of  many  of  his  social  duties ;  the  world,  to  the 
astonishment  of  some  folks,  still  spinning  on  its  axis, 
though  the  life  of  immortal  man  was  not,  as  in  the 
good  old  times,  offered  to  stolen  colt,  to  the  king’s 
gracious  face  unlawfully  stamped  in  counterfeit  metal, 
to  a  hundred  other  sins  all  made  mortal  by  the  wisdom 
of  untaught  humanity.  Truly,  Justice,  turning  back 


114 


MEMORANDA. 


the  leaves  of  the  jail  calendar,  might  sit  awhile  in  sack¬ 
cloth  and  ashes,  penitent  for  past  transgressions — past 
wrongs  committed  in  her  moral  blindness  1  The  sword 
of  justice  !  An  awful  weapon,  truly  :  a  weapon  work¬ 
ing  out  the  will  of  highest  Providence  :  a  solemn  inter¬ 
est  which  man  solemnly  acknowledges.  This  has  been, 
and  may  be.  Yet,  thinking  of  the  world’s  mistakes; 
of  the  cruel  blunders  worked  bylaw  on  man,  the  sword 
of  justice — of  so-called  Christian  justice  robed  and 
ermined — may  sometimes  seem  to  the  eye  of  grieved 
humanity  as  terrible  as  the  blood-dripping  tomahawk 
of  the  wild,  revengeful  savage.  The  sword  of  justice! 
May  not  the  time  come — it  will  come,  as  surely  as  the 
sun  of  far-off  years — when  Justice  shall  lay  down  her 
sword — when,  with  better  wisdom,  she  shall  vindicate 
her  awful  mission  to  mankind,  yet  shed  no  drop  of 
blood ! 

Let  us  return  to  St.  Giles  ;  to  the  boy  in  his  fifteenth 
year,  spawned  upon  the  world  and  reared  by  daily 
wrong  and  ignorance,  a  morsel  for  the  hangman.  Now, 
a  condemned  thief,  palsied  and  aghast  with  terror,  upon 
the  very  threshold  of  the  world  ;  to  be  flung  therefrom, 
an  offering  to  the  majesty  of  offended  law.  Grim  ma¬ 
jesty — ghastly  Moloch  !  Stately  wickedness,  with  robes 
dyed  in  the  blood  of  sinning  ignorance !  A  majesty 
that  the  principle  of  all  evil  may  too  often  smile  upon 
as  its  working  genius  here  on  earth.  A  majesty  as  cold 
and  pulseless  as  the  idol  whose  wooden  nostrils  know 
not  the  sacrifices  its  darkened  worshipers  prepare  it. 
But  St.  Giles  will  now  know  there  is  a  government — a 
knot  of  the  wise  and  good,  whose  harmonious  souls 
combined  make  up  the  music  of  the  State ;  the  moral 


LIVES  OF  TWO  BOYS. 


115 


melody  that  softens  and  refines  the  rugged,  dull-eared 
mass.  He  will  now  know  this ;  the  hangman  will 
teach  it  him.  A  sharp,  short  lesson  ;  the  first  and  last 
prepared  him  by  a  paternal  State. 

“  Guilty — death  !”  Such  was  the  verdict.  Tom 
Blast  breathed  heavily,  and  a  faint  smile  flickered  at 
his  lips  as  he  felt  assured  of  his  escape.  Still,  he  durst 
not  turn  his  eye  toward  his  boy-victim  in  the  dock. 
Conscience  was  at  the  felon’s  heart ;  and  seared,  with¬ 
ered  as  it  was,  it  felt  the  sudden  horror  of  remorse.  His 
features  grew  pale,  then  dark  ;  were  for  a  moment  con¬ 
vulsed  ;  then  instantly — daring  no  look  at  St.  Giles — 
he  disappeared  from  the  dock.  The  hoy  stared  about 
him  with  a  foolish  gaze,  and  then  began  to  sob.  There 
was  no  terror — no  anguish  in  his  face.  It  was  the 
grief  of  a  boy  doomed  to  a  whipping,  not  the  gibbet; 
and  it  was  such  sorrow — such  seeming  childish  ignor¬ 
ance  of  the  impending  horror — that  to  those  who  looked 
upon  him  made  his  condition  more  terrible.  And  then 
again  it  seemed  impossible  that  the  sentence,  so  sonor¬ 
ously  uttered,  should  be  carried  out.  Could  it  be  that 
such  an  array  of  judges — such  wisdom,  such  learning, 
sucli  grave  and  reverend  experience — should  be  op¬ 
posed  to  a  miserable  child,  of  no  more  self-accountabil¬ 
ity  than  a  dog?  Appalling  odds  !  Could  it  be  thought 
that  the  scene  was  a  frightful  reality  of  daily,  breathing 
life?  Was  it  not  a  grim  farce — a  hideous  foolish  mock¬ 
ery?  Could  the  wise  hearts  of  men — fathers  of  well- 
taught,  well-tended,  happy  children — doom  that  child 
to  death  ?  That  miserable  item  of  human  ignorance — 
that  awful  reproach  to  those  who  made  laws  to  protect 
property,  but  left  the  outcast  poor  a  heedless  prey  to  their 


116 


MEMORANDA. 


own  unbridled  instincts  ?  Nevertheless,  the  law  would 
hang  St.  Giles ;  and  grave,  respectable,  church  going 
men,  in  the  very  cosiness  of  their  ignorance,  would  clasp 
their  hands,  and  raise  their  eyes,  and  pity  and  wonder 
at  the  wickedness  of  the  new  generation . 

And  young  St.  Giles  lay  in  Newgate,  sinking,  with¬ 
ering,  under  sentence  of  death.  After  a  time,  he  never 
cried,  or  clamored ;  he  shed  no  tear,  breathed  no  sylla¬ 
ble  of  despair ;  but,  stunned,  stupefied,  seemed  as  if 
idiocy  was  growing  on  him.  The  ordinary — a  good, 
zealous  man— endeavored,  by  soothing,  hopeful  words, 
to  lead  the  prisoner,  as  the  jail  phrase  has  it,  to  a  sense 
of  his  condition.  Never  had  St.  Giles  received  such 
teaching !  Condemned  to  die,  he  for  the  first  time 
heard  of  the  abounding  love  of  Christianity — of  the 
goodness  and  affection  due  from  man  to  man.  The 
story  seemed  odd  to  him  ;  strange,  very  strange ;  yet 
he  supposed  it  was  all  true.  Nevertheless — he  could 
not  dismiss  the  thought,  it  puzzled  him.  Why  had  he 
never  been  taught  all  this  before?  And  why  should  he  be 
punished,  hanged,  for  doing  wrong ;  when  the  good, 
rich,  fine  people,  who  all  of  them  love  their  neighbors 
like  themselves,  had  never  taught  him  what  was  right  ? 
Was  it  possible  that  Christianity  was  such  a  beautiful 
thing — and  being  so,  was  it  possible  that  good,  earnest, 
kind-hearted  Christians  would  kill  him? 

St.  Giles  had  scarcely  eight-and-forty  hours  to  live. 
It  was  almost  Monday  noon,  when  the  ordinary — 
having  attended  the  other  prisoners — entered  the  cell 
of  the  boy  thief.  He  had  been  separated,  by  the  de¬ 
sire  of  the  minister,  from  his  miserable  companions, 
that  their  evil  example  of  hardihood — their  reckless 


LIVES  OF  TWO  BOYS. 


117 


bravado — might  not  wholly  destroy  the  hope  of  grow¬ 
ing  truth  within  him.  A  turnkey  attended  St.  Giles, 
reading  to  him.  And  now  the  boy  would  raise  his  sul¬ 
len  eyes  upon  the  man,  as  he  read  of  promises  of  grace 
and  happiness  eternal;  and  now  his  heart  would  heave 
as  though  he  was  struggling  with  an  inward  agony  that 
seemed  to  suffocate  him — and  now  a  scornful,  unbe¬ 
lieving  smile  would  play  about  his  mouth — and  he 
would  laugh  with  defying  bitterness.  And  then  he 
would  leer  iu  the  face  of  the  reader,  as  though  he  read 
to  him  some  fairy  tale,  some  pretty  story,  to  amuse  and 
gull  him.  Poor  wretch  !  Let  the  men  who  guide  the 
world — the  large-brained  politicians  who  tinker  the 
social  scheme,  making  themselves  the  masters  and 
guardians  of  their  fellow-men — let  them  look  into  this 
Newgate  dungeon  ;  let  them  contemplate  this  blighted 
human  bud ;  this  child-felon,  never  taught  the  path  of 
right,  and  now  to  be  hanged  for  his  most  sinful  igno¬ 
rance.  What  a  wretched,  sullen  outcast !  What  a  dark¬ 
ened,  loathsome  thing !  And  now  comes  the  clergyman — 
the  State  divine,  be  it  remembered — to  tell  him  that  he 
is  treasured  with  an  immortal  soul ;  that — with  mercy 
shed  upon  him — he  will  in  a  few  hours  be  a  creature 
of  glory  before  the  throne  of  God  !  Oh,  politicians  ! 
Oh,  rulers  of  the  world  !  Oh,  law-making  masters  and 
taskers  of  the  common  million,  may  not  this  cast-off 
wretch,  this  human  nuisance,  be  your  accuser  at  the  bar 
of  Heaven  \  Egregious  folly  !  Impossible  !  What  — 
stars  and  garters  impeached  by  rags  and  tatters  !  St. 
James  denounced  by  St.  Giles !  Impudent  and  ridic¬ 
ulous  !  Yet  here,  we  say,  comes  the  reverend  priest — 
the  Christian  preacher,  with  healing,  honeyed  words, 


118 


MEMORANDA. 


whose  Book— your  Book  —  with  angelic  utterance, 
says  no  less.  Let  us  hear  the  clergyman  and  his  for¬ 
lorn  pupil. 

“  W ell,  my  poor  hoy,”  said  the  ordinary,  with  an  af¬ 
fectionate  voice  and  moistening  eyes  :  “  well  my  child, 
and  how  is  it  with  you?  Come,  you  are  better  ;  you 
look  better ;  you  have  been  listening  to  what  your  good 
friend  Robert  here  has  been  reading  to  you.  And  we 
are  all  your  friends,  here.  At  least  we  all  want  to  be. 
Don’t  you  think  so  ?” 

St.  Giles  slowly  lifted  his  eyes  toward  the  speaker. 
He  then  slowly,  sullenly,  answered, — “  Ho,  I  don’t.” 

“  But  you  ought  to  try  to  think  so,  my  boy ;  it’s 
wicked  not  to  try,”  said  the  ordinary,  very  tenderly. 

“  If  you’re  all  my  friends,  why  do  you  keep  me 
here  ?”  said  St.  Giles.  “  Friends !  I  never  had  no 
friends.” 

“  You  must  not  say  that ;  indeed,  you  must  not.  All 
our  care  is  to  make  you  quiet  and  happy  in  this  world, 
that  you  may  be  happier  in  the  world  you’re  going  to. 
You  understand  me,  St.  Giles?  My  poor,  dear  boy, 
you  understand  me?  The  world  you’re  going  to?” 
The  speaker,  inured  as  he  was  to  scenes  of  blasphemy, 
of  brute  indifference,  and  remorseful  agony,  was  deeply 
touched  by  the  forlorn  condition  of  the  boy  ;  who  could 
not,  would  not,  understand  a  tenderness,  the  end  of 
which  was  to  surrender  him  softened  to  the  hangman. 
“  You  have  thought,  my  dear — I  say,  you  have  thought 
of  the  world  ” — and  the  minister  paused — “  the  world 
you  are  going  to  ?” 

“  What’s  the  use  of  thinking  about  it  ?”  asked  St. 
Giles.  “  I  knows  nothing  of  it.” 


LIVES  OF  TWO  BOYS. 


119 


“  That,  my  boy,  is  because  you  are  obstinate,  and  I 
am  sorry  to  say  it,  wicked, — and  so  won’t  try  to  know 
about  it.  Otherwise,  if  you  would  give  all  your  heart 
and  soul  to  prayer - ” 

“  I  tell  }7ou,  sir,  I  never  was  learnt  to  pray,”  cried 
St.  Giles,  moodily  ;  "and  what’s  the  use  of  praying  ?” 

“  You  would  find  it  open  your  heart,  St.  Giles  ;  and 
though  you  see  nothing  now,  if  you  were  only  to  pray 
long  and  truly,  you  would  find  the  darkness  go  away 
from  your  eyes,  and  you’d  see  such  bright  and  beauti 
ful  things  about  you,  and  you’d  feel  as  light  and 
happy  as  if  you  had  wings  at  your  back — you  would, 
indeed.  Then  you’d  feel  that  all  we  are  doing  for  you 
is  for  the  best ;  then,  my  poor  boy,”  said  the  ordinary 
with  growing  fervor,  “  then  you’d  feel  what  Christian 
love  is.” 

“  Eobert’s  been  reading  to  me  about  that,”  said  St. 
Giles,  “  but  I  can’t  make  it  out  nohow.  He  says  that 
Christian  love  means  that  we  shouldn’t  do  to  nobody 
what  we  wouldn’t  like  nobody  to  do  to  ourselves.” 

“  A  good  boy,”  said  the  ordinary,  “  that  is  the  mean¬ 
ing,  though  not  the  words.  I’m  glad  you’ve  so  im¬ 
proved.” 

“  And  for  all  that,  yon  tell  me  that  I  must  think  o’ 
dying — think  of  another  world  and  all  that — think  of 
going  to  Tyburn,  and,  and  ” — here  the  boy  fell  hoarse, 
his  face  turned  ash-color,  and  reeling,  he  was  about  to 
fall,  when  the  ordinary  caught  him  in  his  arms,  and 
again  placed  him  on  a  seat.  “  It’s  nothin’ — nothin’ — 
nothin’  at  all,”  cried  St.  Giles,  struggling  with  himself 
— “  I’m  all  right ;  I’m  game.” 

“  Don’t  say  that,  child  ;  I  can’t  hear  you  say  that : 


120 


MEMORANDA. 


I  would  rather  see  you  in  tears  and  pain  than  trying  to 
be  game,  as  you  call  it.  That,  my  boy,  is  only  adding 
crime  to  wickedness.  Come,  we  were  talking  of  Chris- 
tian  love,”  said  the  ordinary. 

“I  knows  nothin’  about  it,”  said  St.  Giles;  “all  I 
know  is  this — it  isn’t  true ;  it  can’t  be  true.” 

“Tell  me,  why  not!  Come,  let  me  hear  all  you’d 
say,”  urged  the  clergyman,  tenderly, 

“  ’Cause  if  it  means  that  nobody  should  do  to  nobody 
what  nobody  would  like  to  have  done  to  themselves, 
why  does  any  body  keep  me  locked  up  here  ?  Why  did 
the  judge  say  I  was  to  be — you  know,  Mister?” 

“  That  was  for  doing  wrong,  my  boy:  that  was  for 
your  first  want  of  Christian  love.  You  were  no  Chris¬ 
tian  when  you  stole  the  hoi’se,”  said  the  ordinary. 
“Had  the  horse  been  yours,  you  would  have  felt 
wronged  and  injured  had  it  been  stolen  from  you  ?  You 
see  that,  eh,  my  boy  ?” 

“  Didn’t  think  o’  that,”  said  St.  Giles,  gloomily. 
“  But  I  didn’t  steal  it :  ’twas  all  along  ’o  Tom  Blast ; 
and  now  he’s  got  off ;  and  I’m  here  in  the  Jug.  You 
don’t  call  that  justice,  no  how,  do  you?  But  I  don’t 
care ;  they  can  do  what  they  like  with  me ;  I’ll  be 
game.” 

“No,  my  dear  boy,  you  must  know  better:  you 
must,  indeed — you  must  give  all  your  thoughts  to  pray¬ 
er,  and - ” 

“  It’s  ’o  no  use,  Mister  ;  I  tell  you  I  never  was  learnt 
fo  pray,  and  I  don’t  know  how  to  go  about  it.  More 
than  that,  I  feel  somehow  ashamed  to  it.  And  besides, 
for  all  your  talk,  Mister,  and  you  talk  very  kind  to  me, 
I  must  say,  I  can’t  feel  like  a  Christian,  as  you  call  it,— 


LIVES  OF  TWO  BOYS. 


121 


for  I  can’t  see  why  Christians  should  want  to  kill  me 
if  Christians  are  such  good  people  as  you  talk  about.1’ 

“  But  then,  my  poor  boy,”  said  the  ordinary,  “  though 
young,  you  must  remember,  you’re  an  old  sinner. 
You’ve  done  much  wickedness.” 

“  I  never  done  nothing  but  what  I  was  taught ;  and 
if  you  say — and  Bob  there’s  been  reading  it  to  me — 
that  the  true  Christian  forgives  everybody — well,  then, 
in  course,  the  judge  and  all  the  nobs  are  no  Christians, 
else  wouldn’t  they  forgive  me?  Wouldn’t  they  like 
it  so,  to  teach  me  better,  and  not  to  kill  me?  But  I 
don’t  mind;  I’ll  be  game;  see  if  I  don’t  be  game — 
precious  !” 

The  ordinary,  with  a  perplexed  look  sighed,  deeply. 
The  sad  condition  of  the  boy,  the  horrid  death  await¬ 
ing  him,  the  natural  shrewdness  with  which  he  com¬ 
bated  the  arguments  employed  for  his  conversion,  affect¬ 
ed  the  worthy  clergyman  beyond  all  past  experience. 
“Miserable  little  wretch!”  he  thought,  “  it  will  be  worst 
of  murders,  if  he  dies  thus.”  And  then,  again,  he  es¬ 
sayed  to  soften  the  child  felon,  who  seemed  determined 
to  stand  at  issue  with  his  spiritual  counselor ;  to  recede 
no  step,  but  to  the  gallows  foot  to  defy  him.  It  would  be 
his  ambition,  his  glory — if  he  must  die — to  die  game. 
He  had  heard  the  praises  bestowed  upon  such  a  death — 
had  known  the  contemptuous  jeering  flung  upon  the  re¬ 
pentant  craven — and  he  would  be  the  theme  of  eulogy 
in  Hog  Lane — he  would  not  be  laughed,  sneered  at,  for 
“dying  dunghill.”  And  this  temper  so  grew  and 
strengthened  in  St.  Giles,  that,  at  length,  the  ordi¬ 
nary,  wearied  and  hopeless,  left  his  forlorn  charge, 
promising  soon  to  return,  and  hoping,  in  his  own  words, 


.122 


MEMORANDA. 


to  find  the  prisoner  “  a  kinder,  better,  and  more  Chris¬ 
tian  boy.” 

“It’s  no  use  your  reading  that  stuff  to  me,”  said  St. 
Giles,  as  the  turnkey  was  about  to  resume  his  book.  “I 
don’t  understand  nothin’  of  it;  and  it’s  too  late  to 
learn.  But  I  say,  can’t  you  tell  us  somethin’  of  Tur¬ 
pin  and  Jack  Sheppard,  eh?  Something  prime,  to  give 
us  pluck !” 

“Come,  come,”  answered  the  man,  “it’s  no  use  going 
on  in  this  way.  You  must  be  quiet  and  listen  to  me; 
it’s  all  for  your  good,  I  tell  you ;  all  for  your  good.” 

“  My  good  !  Well  that’s  pretty  gammon,  that  is.  I 
should  like  to  know  what  can  be  for  my  good  if  I’m  to 
be  hanged?  Ha!  ha!  See  if  I  don't  kick  my  shoes 
off1,  that’s  all.”  And  St.  Giles  would  not  listen  ;  but  sat 
on  the  stool,  swinging  his  legs  backward  and  forward, 
and  singing  one  of  the  melodies  known  in  Hog  Lane — 
poor  wretch !  it  had  been  a  cradle  melody  to  him — 
whilst  the  turnkey  vainly  endeavored  to  soothe  and  in¬ 
terest  him.  At  length  the  man  discontinued  his  hope¬ 
less  task;  and,  in  sheer  listlessness,  leaning  his  back 
against  the  wall,  fell  asleep.  And  now  St.  Giles  was 
left  alone.  And  now,  relieved  of  importunity,  did  he 
forego  the  bravado  that  had  supported  him,  and  sol¬ 
emnly  think  of  his  approaching  end?  Did  he,  with 
none  other  but  the  eye  of  God,  in  that  stone  cell,  upon 
him — did  he  shrink  and  wither  beneath  the  look ;  and, 
on  bended  knees,  with  opened  heart,  and  flowing,  repent¬ 
ant  tears,  did  he  pray  for  heaven’s  compassion — God’s 
sweet  mercy  ?  Ho.  Yet  thoughts,  deep,  anxious  thoughts 
were  brooding  in  his  heart.  His  face  grew  older  with 
the  meditation  that  shadowed  it.  All  his  being  seemed 


LTVES  OF  TWO  BOYS. 


r  23 


compressed,  intensified  in  one  idea.  Gloomily,  yet  with 
whetted  eyes,  he  looked  around  his  cell ;  and  still  darker 
and  darker  grew  his  face.  Could  he  break  prison  ? 
Such  was  the  question — the  foolish,  idle,  yet  flattering 
question — that  his  soul  put  to  itself.  All  his  recollections 
of  the  glory  of  Turpin  and  Sheppard  crowded  upon 
him — and  what  greater  glory  would  it  be  for  him  if  he 
could  escape  !  He,  a  boy,  to  do  this  ?  He  to  be  sung  in 
ballads — to  be  talked  of,  huzzaed,  and  held  up  for  high 
example,  long  after  he  should  be  dead — passed  forever 
from  the  world  ?  The  proud  thought  glowed  within 
him — made  his  heart  lieave — and  his  eyes  sparkle.  And 
then  he  looked  about  his  cell,  and  the  utter  hopeless¬ 
ness  of  the  thought  fell  upon  him,  withering  his  heart. 
Yet  again  and  again — although  to  be  crushed  with  new 
despair — he  gazed  about  him,  dreaming  of  liberty  with¬ 
out  that  wall  of  flint.  And  thus  his  waking  hours 
passed  ;  and  thus,  in  the  visions  of  the  night,  his  spirit 
busied  itself  in  hopeful  vanity. 

The  Tuesday  morning  came,  and  again  the  clergy¬ 
man  visited  the  prisoner.  The  boy  looked  paler,  thin¬ 
ner — no  more.  There  was  no  softness  in  his  eyes,  no 
appealing  glance  of  hope ;  but  a  fixed  and  stubborn 
look  of  inquiry.  “  He  didn’t  know  nothing  of  what  the 
parson  had  to  say,  and  he  didn’t  want  to  be  bothered. 
It  was  all  gammon !”  These  were  the  words  of  the 
boy  felon,  then — such  was  the  humanity  of  the  law ; 
poor  law!  what  a  long  nonage  of  discretion  has  it 
passed! — then  within  a  day’s  span  of  the  grave. 

As  the  hour  of  death  approached,  the  clergyman  be¬ 
came  more  assiduous,  fervent,  nay,  passionate  in  his 
appeals  to  the  prisoner  ;  who  still  strengthened  himself 


124 


MEMORANDA. 


in  opposition  to  his  pastor.  “  My  dear  boy — my  poor  child 
— miserable,  helpless  creature  ! — the  grave  is  open  be¬ 
fore  you — the  sky  is  opening  above  you  !  Die  without 
repentance,  and  you  wrill  pass  into  the  grave,  and  never 
— never  know  immortal  blessings  !  Your  soul  will  per¬ 
ish — perish,  as  I  have  told  you — in  fire,  in  fire  eternal !” 

St.  Giles  swayed  his  head  to  and  fro,  and  with  a 
sneer,  asked,  “What's  the  good  o’  all  this  ?  Haven’t  you 
told  me  so,  Mister,  agin  and  agin  ?” 

The  ordinary  groaned  almost  in  despair,  yet  still 
renewed  his  task.  “  The  heavens,  I  tell  you,  are  open¬ 
ing  for  you  :  repent,  my  child  ;  repent,  poor  boy,  and 
you  will  be  an  immortal  spirit,  welcomed  by  millions 
of  angels.” 

St.  Giles  looked  with  bitter  incredulity  at  his  spiritual 
teacher.  “  Well,  if  all  that’s  true,”  he  said,  “  it  isn’t  so 
hard  to  be  hanged,  arter  all.  But  I  don’t  think  the  nobs 
like  me  so  well  as  to  send  me  to  sich  a  place  as  that.” 

“Nay,  mv  poor  boy,”  said  the  ordinary,  “you  will 
not,  can  not  understand  me,  until  you  pray.  Now, 
kneel — my  dear  child,  kneel,  and  let  ns  pray  together.” 
Saying  this,  the  ordinary  fell  upon  his  knees ;  but  St. 
Giles,  folding  his  arms,  so  placed  himself  as  to  take 
firmer  root  of  the  ground  ;  and  so  he  stood,  with  moody, 
determined  looks,  whilst  the  clergyman — touched  more 
than  was  his  wont — poured  forth  a  passionate  prayer 
that  the  heart  of  the  young  sinner  might  be  softened; 
that  it  might  be  turned  from  stone  into  flesh,  and  be¬ 
come  a  grateful  sacrifice  to  the  throne  of  God.  And 
whilst  this  prayer,  in  deep  and  solemn  tones,  rose  from 
the  prison-cell,  he  for  whom  the  prayer  was  formed 
6eemed  to  grow  harder,  more  obdurate,  with  every  syl- 


LIVES  OF  TWO  BOYS. 


125 


lable.  Still  lie  refused  to  bend  his  knee  at  the  suppli¬ 
cation  of  the  clergyman,  but  stood  eying  him  with  a 
mingled  look  of  incredulity,  defiance,  and  contempt. 
“  God  help  you — poor  lost  lamb !”  cried  the  ordinary,  as 
he  rose. 

“  Now,  I  hope  we  shall  have  no  more  of  that,”  was 
the  only  answer  of  St.  Giles. 

The  ordinary  was  about  to  quit  the  cell,  when  the 
door  was  opened,  and  the  governor  of  the  jail,  attended 
by  the  head  turnkey,  entered.  “My  dear  sir,  I  am 
glad  to  find  you  here,”  said  the  governor  to  the  ordi¬ 
nary.  “  I  have  a  pleasing  duty  to  perform  ;  a  duty  that 
I  know  it  will  delight  you  to  witness.”  The  ordinary 
glanced  at  a  paper  held  by  the  governor;  his  eyes 
brightened;  and  clasping  his  hands,  he  fervently  ut¬ 
tered— “  Thank  God !” 

The  governor  then  turned  to  St.  Giles,  who  suddenly 
looked  anxious  and  restless.  “  Prisoner,”  he  said,  “  it 
is  my  happiness  to  inform  you  that  his  gracious  majesty 
has  been  mercifully  pleased  to  spare  your  life.  You 
will  not  suffer  with  the  unfortunate  men  to-morrow. 
You  understand  me,  boy” — for  St.  Giles  looked  sud¬ 
denly  stupefied — “you  understand  me,  that  the  good 
king,  whom  you  should  ever  pray  for,  has,  in  the  hope 
that  you  will  turn  from  the  wickedness  of  your  ways, 
determined  to  spare  your  life?  You  will  be  sent  out 
of  the  country;  and  time  given  you  that,  if  you  properly 
use,  will  make  you  a  good  and  honest  man.” 

St.  Giles  made  no  answer,  but  trembled  violently 
from  head  to  foot.  Then  his  face  flushed  red  as  flame, 
and  covering  it  with  his  hands,  he  fell  upon  his  knees, 
and  the  tears  ran  streaming  through  his  fingers.  “  Prav 


120 


MEMORANDA. 


with  me ;  pray  for  me !”  he  cried,  in  a  broken  voice  to 
the  ordinary. 


41. 

CLAIRVOYANT  PERCEPTION  OP  JESUS. 

Willi  amsburgh,  August  10,  1848. 

Some  instances  of  a  miraculous  knowledge  in  the 
life  of  Jesus  may  remind  us  of  the  “  clear-and-long- 
sightedness  ”  of  persons  in  a  magnetic  state,  or  of  those 
in  a  similar  condition.  As  Jesus  saw  Nathaniel  under 
the  fig-tree,  so  magnetic  persons  see  their  physician, 
their  relatives,  and  sometimes  even  indifferent  individu¬ 
als,  in  distant  houses  and  remote  parts  of  the  country  ; 
as  he  spoke  to  the  woman  of  Samaria  of  her  six  hus¬ 
bands,  so  magnetic  somnambulists  (adds  Strauss)  have 
frequently  read  the  most  secret  concerns  in  the  hearts 
of  those  with  whom  they  were  conversing  ;  and  as  he 
knew  in  what  part  of  the  lake  a  quantity  of  fish  had 
crowded  together,  unnoticed  by  his  disciples,  though 
they  were  experienced  fishermen,  so  there  are  persons 
who  are  able  to  tell  where  metals  or  bones  are  buried, 
where  water  is  concealed  under  thick  layers  of  earth, 
and  some  even,  to  whom  the  body  of  others  is  trans¬ 
parent  as  it  were,  so  that  they  can  see  its  innermost 
parts,  and  describe  their  condition  or  ailment,  as  the 
case  may  be. 


IMPRESSIONS  OF  HORACE  GREELEY. 


127 


43. 


.MPRESSIONS  OP  HORACE  GREELEY. 

Williamsburgh,  October  18,  1848. 

To-rui  ventured  into  the  presence  of  Mr.  Horace 
Greeley.  My  only  object  was  to  call  his  personal  at¬ 
tention  to  mv  just  published  Chart  of  the  “  History 
and  Destiny  of  the  Race,”  and  to  a>k  him  if  he  would 
have  the  goodness  to  give  it  a  little  editorial  notice,  lie 
was  writing,  when  I  entered,  on  a  slanting  board  pro¬ 
jecting  from  the  wall,  sitting  uncomfortably  in  a  very 
old  chair  ;  his  right  arm  and  hand  on  a  level  with  his 
shoulder  ;  his  face  almost  touching  the  “  copy”  and  his 
hand  as  he  wrote.  1  coughed  a  little,  and  stepped 
about  the  floor  quite  emphatically  for  a  few  moments, 
and  so  got  his  attention.  He  leaned  carelessly  back  in 
his  chair,  turned  his  pure  and  honest  face  toward  me, 
squinted  his  eyes  as  if  trying  to  see,  and  extended  his 
left  hand  with  an  air  of  supreme  indifference,  sig¬ 
nifying  as  plainly  as  if  spoken :  “  Shake  my  hand  if 
you  want  to,  but  don’t  bother  me  long.”  Advancing 
timidly,  I  shook  his  lazy-feeling  left  hand.  At  once  I 
showed  him  the  Chart,  and  hoped  he  would  have  time 
to  look  it  over,  and  to  give  it  a  little  notice  in  his 
Tribune.  He  put  his  eyes  close  up  to  the  sheet  as  I 
held  it  unrolled  before  his  face,  and,  seeing  the  caption  : 


128 


MEMORANDA. 


“Progressive  History,”  said,  bluntly  and  decisively, 
“  Don’t  believe  that !  Society  in  New  York  is  no  bet¬ 
ter  than  it  was  in  the  days  of  Charlemagne.”  After 
one  or  two  more  similar  expressions,  he  said:  “You 
can  leave  it.  I’ll  look  at  it  when  I  get  time.”  Accord¬ 
ingly,  I  left  the  Chart  in  his  editorial  corner,  and  gladly 
withdrew. 

I  came  straight  to  this  room,  and  these  are  my  im¬ 
pressions  of  Horace  Greeley,  to  wit :  Under  pressure 
and  excitement,  he  is  firm  as  a  rock.  Will  not  give  up 
a  cherished  idea ;  will  do  what  seems  right  for  him  to 
do,  though  the  heavens  fall ;  unless  he  is  peculiarly  ap¬ 
proached  by  the  magnetism,  rather  than  by  the  reason¬ 
ing,  of  gentle  and  trustworthy  friends.  His  mind,  on 
one  side,  is  hard  as  flint ;  on  the  other,  his  mental  nature 
is  tender  and  sympathetic  as  a  child.  He  is,  therefore, 
an  inconsistency.  His  efforts  and  his  prayers  are  bene¬ 
volently  for  the  millions.  If  aware,  or  if  he  imagines, 
that  a  person  or  party  is  trying  to  control  him,  he  is 
immovable.  His  creed  is,  “  Give  to  all  their  natural 
rights !”  Clear  in  what  he  sees,  and  faithful  to  the 
suggestions  of  his  own  flinty  intelligence,  he  yet  has 
not  the  philosophical  capacity  to  grasp  the  spiritual 
springs  within  the  growth  of  individuals  and  nations. 
He  distinctly  sees  that  the  earth-toiler  was  not  meant 
for  a  throne,  or  for  despotic  power,  nor  that  it  was 
God’s  intent  that  man  should  ever  become  a  victim  or 
a  criminal ;  but  how  to  organize  industry  and  exalt 
labor,  and  especially  how  to  overcome  fraud  in  high 
places,  is  too  frequently  beyond  Mr.  Greeley’s  compre¬ 
hension.  Yet,  his  ruling  principle  is,  to  try  every  avail¬ 
able  and  logical  remedy  that  looks  like  a  genuine  refer- 


A  DEAD  BODY  FOUND. 


129 


raation  for  the  people ;  and  through  his  life,  as  a  stain 
of  ink  seen  in  the  beauty  of  a  white  garment,  will  ever 
stream  this  palpable  misapplication  of  remedies.  .  .  . 

A  feeling  possesses  me  this  moment,  amounting  to  a 
kind  of  sadness,  with  respect  to  Mr.  Greeley,  namely : 
His  long  devotion  to  journalism  will  be  a  loss  to  liter 
ature ;  and  what  he  has  done,  or  may  do,  in  politics,  can 
never  be  to  mankind  a  sufficient  compensation.  When 
I  stood  by  his  side,  only  two  hours  ago,  I  was  conscious 
of  an  access  of  intellectual  strength.  Ilis  mind  is 
capable  of  large  industry  not  only,  but  of  gaining  and 
imparting  the  greatest  fund  of  practical  knowledge.  A 
hint,  a  single  word,  a  suggestion,  teaches  Mr.  (ireeley 
many  great  lessons.  There  is,  too,  an  undefinable  ten¬ 
derness  of  expression  in  the  atmosphere  of  his  face,  so 
to  speak,  which  says  to  me :  “  Behind  the  editor — 
within  the  intellectual  faculties,  and  beneath  the  moral 
energies  of  this  every-day  man — there  lives  a  genius,  a 
rare  and  beautiful  mind,  which  could  multiply  itself 
many  times  in  poetry  and  literature.”  But,  alas!  the 
god  of  Utility,  the  practical  Benjamin  Franklinism  of 
turning  every  thing  into  account  in  this  day,  and  in  this 
hour,  has  found  in  him  a  perpetual  worshiper. 


43. 


A  DEAD  BODY  FOUND  BY  CLAIRVOYANCE. 

New  York,  December  6,  1848. 

My  attention  has  just  been  called  to  the  following 
account  published  in  the  Boston  Ckronotype : — 

6* 


130 


MEMORANDA. 


About  the  20tk  of  February,  1846,  a  young  man 
named  John  S.  Bruce,  aged  about  18  years,  son  of  Mr. 
Lewis  Bruce,  a  respectable  farmer  in  Westford,  Mid¬ 
dlesex  County,  Mass.,  started  from  his  father’s  residence 
with  a  span  of  horses  and  a  sled-load  of  straw,  for  the 
purpose  of  selling  the  latter  in  this  city.  The  distance 
being  only  twenty-five  miles,  he  was  expected  to  return 
the  following  day.  Days,  weeks,  and  months  passed, 
however,  and  no  tidings  were  heard  of  him  by  his  anx¬ 
ious  family,  though  diligent  search  and  inquiry  were 
made— and  his  friends  accordingly  remained  in  a  dis¬ 
tressing  quandary,  whether  it  was  possible  he  had  left 
for  parts  unknown  or  some  fatal  evil  had  befallen 
him. 

We  will  here  mention  an  apparently  trifling  incident, 
but  one  which  resulted  in  furnishing  the  first  clue  to 
information  concerning  young  Bruce. 

It  appears  that  Mr.  Otis  Hildreth,  a  neighbor — who 
subsequently  removed  from  Westford  to  Salem,  N.  H., 
— arranged  with  Bruce  to  take  to  Boston  a  small  keg 
to  be  filled  with  molasses  for  him — which,  of  course, 
was  never  returned.  Mr.  Hildreth  came  to  the  city  on 
business  in  the  succeeding  month  of  July,  and  happen¬ 
ing  to  call  in  at  the  office  connected  with  the  stable  of 
Edward  Eastman,  in  Deacon  Street,  saw  his  keg  there , 
and  identified  it  by  several  marks.  On  inquiry,  he  was 
told  that  it  had  been  left  there  during  the  winter 
previous,  together  with  a  span  of  horses,  which,  after 
being  kept  seventeen  days  without  being  called  for, 
were  advertised  by  Eastman  and  sold  at  auction,  and 
that  there  was  a  balance  of  between  five  and  six  dollars 
after  deducting  expenses,  due  the  owner  of  the  horses 


A  DEAD  BODY  FOUND. 


131 


when  he  should  make  his  appearance.  From  the  ac¬ 
counts  given,  Mr.  Hildreth  was  satisfied  that  the  horses 
were  those  driven  by  young  Bruce,  but  of  the  latter  he 
could  gain  no  intelligence  except  a  faint  remembrance 
that  a  person  of  singular  description  had  been  seen 
around  the  stable  sometime  the  previous  winter. 

Upon  his  return  to  Salem,  Mr.  Hildreth  wrote  to  Mr. 
Bruce  at  Westford,  stating  the  above  circumstances— 
which  very  naturally  excited  in  the  mind  of  the  father 
a  revival  of  hope  that  he  might  trace  from  them 
some  knowledge  of  his  absent  son.  He  accordingly 
promised  soon  to  come  to  Boston  for  the  purpose  of 
making  inquiries,  but  coidd  learn  nothing  further  than 
that  his  son  was  last  seen  on  the  sidewalk  near  the 
stable  referred  to.  His  name  was  also  found  recorded 
on  the  hayweigher’s  book,  but  another  name  was  regis¬ 
tered  at  the  stable  as  the  person  by  whom  the  horses 
were  left. 

Some  time  after  this,  Mr.  Bruce  was  induced  bv  the 
solicitation  of  friends — though  himself  an  unbeliever  in 
Mesmerism — to  come  to  the  city  and  employ  the  clair¬ 
voyant  power  of  Mrs.  Freeman,  in  Lyman  Place — a 
practitioner  somewhat  celebrated  for  her  success  in 
similar  cases — in  further  inquiry  respecting  his  son. 
The  clairvoyant  made  some  startling  developments, 
which  were  repeated  at  subsequent  examinations  at¬ 
tended  both  by  Mr.  Bruce  and  a  daughter  who  resided 
in  Lowell ;  and  from  the  investigations  which  they 
were  able  to  make,  it  was  conclusive  to  them  that 
there  was  much  truth  in  the  statements,  although, 
from  the  nature  of  the  case,  it  was  difficult  to  ascer¬ 
tain  certain  things  thus  revealed,  or  even  to  connect 


132 


MEMORANDA. 


the  several  links  of  evidence  so  as  to  form  a  tolerably 
complete  chain. 

The  principal  features  of  the  clairvoyant’s  revelations 
— drawn  out  in  fragments  at  different  times — compris¬ 
ed  the  known  facts  detailed  above  concerning  young 
Bruce’s  journey  to  Boston,  with  the  declarations  that 
shortly  after  his  arrival  he  was  induced  by  certain  per¬ 
sons  to  take  something  to  drink,  which  threw  him 
into  convulsions,  of  which  he  died — that  his  body 
was  concealed  for  some  time  under  a  manure  heap, 
but  afterward  taken  by  a  colored  man  in  the  night 
time,  carried  out  upon  the  water  and  sunk  in  the 
harbor — that  it  was  subsequently  discovered,  and  was 
to  be  found  in  a  certain  tomb  in  the  City  burial- 
ground  on  the  Neck!  The  clairvoyant  also  stated 
that  the  drug  was  administered  to  Bruce  for  the  pur¬ 
pose  of  obtaining  money,  &c.,  which  he  was  supposed  to 
possess,  and  that  a  certain  individual  cognizant  of  these 
transactions  had  since  been  dangerously  ill,  and  came 
near  divulging  them,  &c.,  &c. 

These  representations  so  inflamed  the  curiosity  of 
Mr.  Bruce  and  others  to  inspect  the  cemetery,  that  on 
Tuesday  afternoon  last,  accompanied  by  Mr.  Franklin 
Smith,  one  of  the  city  undertakers,  they  proceeded 
thither  for  an  examination.  Abiding  by  the  minute 
instructions  he  had  received  from  the  clairvoyant,  Mr. 
Bruce  requested  that  Tomb  No.  15  might  be  opened, 
and  if  the  remains  of  his  son  were  not  in  the  lowest 
coffin  in  that  tomb,  he  would  be  satisfied  without 
further  search.  Mr.  Smith  accordingly  pulled  down 
some  dozen  or  fifteen  coffins,  and  on  prying  up  the  lid 
of  the  lower  one,  mirabile  dictu  !  the  father  recognized 


A  DEAD  BODY  FOUND. 


133 


the  dress  of  his  son  within  the  coffin  !• — he  having  been 
entombed  witli  his  clothes  on,  as  is  usual  when  bodies 
are  found  in  a  decayed  condition.  Of  the  remains 
nothing  was  left  save  a  portion  of  the  stomach,  which 
appeared  to  be  in  a  singular  state  of  preservation,  some 
locks  of  light  auburn  hair,  and  teeth,  two  of  which 
were  also  identified  by  the  father  from  some  peculiar 
appearances.  A  wallet  was  also  found  about  the  cloth¬ 
ing,  which  contained  no  money,  but  a  few  buttons, 
needles  and  thread.  A  pocket-book  which  the  deceased 
brought  with  him  to  the  city  was  not  found.  It  was 
evident  he  was  buried  under  a  false  name,  as  his  proper 
name  was  not  to  be  found  on  the  Superintendent’s 
books,  and  but  one — a  colored  man — had  been  interred 
as  “  unknown.” 

Mr.  Bruce  took  from  the  coffin  a  piece  of  the  panta¬ 
loons,  the  vest,  and  the  other  articles  described,  and 
returned  home.  As  soon  as  it  was  seen,  the  clothing 
was  recognized  by  members  of  the  family,  and  a  store¬ 
keeper  identified  the  buttons,  needles,  and  thread  as 
sold  by  him  to  young  Bruce  the  day  before  he  left 
Westford. 

The  identity  of  the  remains  being  thus  clearly  es¬ 
tablished,  the  father,  on  application  to  Mr.  Lincoln, 
Superintendent  of  Burials,  was  granted  a  permit  to  re¬ 
move  them,  and  on  Friday  afternoon  he  conveyed  them 
home,  stating  that  li  e  would  have  the  stomach  ana¬ 
lyzed  ;  and  thus  this  singularly  myst  erious  case  rests  at 
present. 


1  34 


MEMORANDA. 


4  4. 

J  G.  'WHITTIER’S  ACCOUNT  OF  MESMERIC  REVELATIONS. 

Boston,  May  7,  1849. 

I  had  the  pleasure  to-day  of  seeing  in  a  Cambridge 
stage  the  plain-looking  man  who  wrote  “  The  Reform¬ 
er,”  parts  of  which  my  old  friend  Ira  Armstrong  used 
to  quote  with  such  enthusiasm.  In  Mr.  Whittier’s 
“  Stranger  in  Lowell,”  p.  102,  he  says : — 

It  is  too  late  now  to  regard  mesmerism  wholly  as 
charlatanry  and  imposture — to  rank  its  phenomena  with 
the  tricks  of  Cagliostro  and  Count  St.  Germain.  Grant, 
if  you  will,  that  the  everlasting  and  ubiquitous  quack 
has  taken  advantage  of  it — that  he  has  engrafted  upon 
its  great  fact  the  fictitious  and  shallow  legerdemain  of 
common  jugglery — still  a  Fact  remains,  attested  by 
unnumbered  witnesses,  which  clashes  with  all  our  old 
ideas  and  our  habitual  experience — which  throws  open 
the  door  for  “thick-coming  fancies,”  and  interminable 
speculations — a  miracle  made  familiar — an  impossibil¬ 
ity  realized — the  old  fable  of  transfusion  of  spirit  made 
actual — the  mysterious  trance  of  the  Egyptian  priest¬ 
hood  reproduced.  This  first  fact  in  mesmerism  dimly 
reveals  a  new  world  of  wonder — a  faint  light  fall¬ 
ing  into  the  great  shadow  of  the  mystery  which  environs 
us  like  an  atmosphere  of  night.  It  affords  us  a  vague 


j.  g.  whittiee’s  account. 


135 


and  dim  perception  of  the  nature  of  wliat  we  call  Life; 
it  startles  the  Materialist  with  phenomena  fearfully  sug¬ 
gestive  of  the  conditions  of  a  purely  spiritual  being.  In 
the  language  of  another,  when  we  plant  our  first  foot¬ 
fall  upon  the  threshold  of  the  portal  to  which  this 
astonishing  discovery  introduces,  long  and  deep  are 
the  reverberations  which  come  forth  from  the  yet 
dark  depths  which  lie  beyond  it.  Having  made  this 
first  step,  we  are  prepared  to  go  “  sounding  onward  our 
dim  and  perilous  way,”  passing  from  one  wonder  to 
another,  like  the  knight  of  the  nursery  tale,  in  the 
Enchanted  Castle — 

“  His  heart  was  strong, 

While  the  strange  light  crept  on  the  floor  along.” 

Without  assenting  in  any  respect  to  this  theory,  I  have 
been  recently  deeply  interested  in  reading  a  paper  from 
a  gentleman  who  has  devoted  much  of  his  leisure,  for 
the  last  seven  years,  to  a  patient  investigation  of  this 
subject.  He  gives  the  particulars  of  a  case  which  oc¬ 
curred  under  his  own  observation.  A  young  girl  of 
great  purity  of  character,  in  a  highly  exalted  state  of 
what  is  called  clairvoyance,  or  animal  electricity,  was 
willed  by  the  magnetizer  to  the  future  world.  In  the 
language  of  the  narrator,  “  The  vision  burst  upon  her. 
Her  whole  countenance  and  form  indicated  at  once  that 
a  most  surprising  change  had  passed  over  her  mind. 
A  solemn,  pleasing,  but  deeply  impressive  expression 
rested  upon  her  features.  She  prophesied  her  own  early 
death ;  and  when  one  of  her  young  friends  wept,  she 
said:  ‘Do  not  weep  for  me;  death  is  desirable,  beauti¬ 
ful  !  I  have  seen  the  future,  and  myself  there.  O  !  it 
is  beautiful,  happy,  and  glorious! — and  myself  so  beau 


136 


MEMORANDA. 


t i fill,  liappy,  and  glorious!  And  it  is  not  dying,  only 
changing  places,  states,  and  conditions,  and  feelings. 
O  !  how  beautiful ! — how  blessed  !’  She  seemed  to  see 
her  mother,  who  was  dead,  and  when  asked  to  speak  to 
her,  she  replied :  ‘  She  will  not  speak  ;  I  could  not  under¬ 
stand  her.  They  converse  by  willing,  thinking,  feeling, 
without  language.’  ” 

All  this  may,  in  part,  be  accounted  for  on  the  theory 
of  cerebral  excitement — the  disturbed  over-action  of  a 
portion  of  the  brain,  or,  to  speak  phrenologicallv,  of  the 
“  religious  organs.”  Yet  the  mystery  even  then  is  but 
'partially  solved.  Why  in  this  state  of  exaltation  and 
preternatural  mental  activity  should  similar  images 
and  thoughts  present  themselves  to  persons  of  widely 
varied  temperaments  and  beliefs,  from  the  cold  materi¬ 
alist  to  the  too  ardent  spiritualist ;  from  the  credulous 
believer  to  the  confirmed  skeptic  ? 

For  myself,  I  am  not  willing  to  reject  at  on^e  every 
thing  which  can  not  be  explained  in  consistency  with  a 
strictly  material  philosophy.  Who  knows  the  laws  of 
his  own  spiritual  nature  ?  Who  can  determine  the  pre¬ 
cise  conditions  of  the  mysterious  union  of  soul  and 
body?  It  ill  becomes  us,  in  our  ignorance  and  blind¬ 
ness,  to  decide  that  whatever  accords  not  with  our  five 
senses,  and  our  every  day  experience,  is  an  impossibility . 
There  is  a  credulity  of  doubt  which  is  more  to  be  dej 
recated  than  that  of  belief. 


SPIRITUAL  APPEARANCES. 


137 


45. 


VISIT  FROM  JAMES  VICTOR  WILSON. 

Boston,  May  20,  1 849. 

With  the  exception  of  a  brief  call  from  his  spirit  in 
December,  1847,  this  is  the  first  I  have  heard  and  seen 
;tny  thing  of  my  dearly-beloved  spirit-brother  Wilson.* 
liis  personal  affection  is  gentle,  and  there  is  an  inde¬ 
scribable  illumination  enveloping  his  face  and  figure, 
lie  is  learning  all  he  can  concerning  the  life  and 
spheres  beyond  the  grave. 


46. 

PREMONITIONS  AND  SPIRITUAL  APPEARANCES. 

Boonton,  N.  J.,  October  10,  1849. 

I  record  the  following  account  by  one  in  whom  I 
have  entire  confidence : — 

My  paternal  grandfather  was  a  man  of  that  patri¬ 
archal  mould  of  character  that  combines  great  benevo¬ 
lence  and  natural  urbanity  with  a  conscientiousness  and 
firmness  which,  but  for  these  tempering  principles, 
would  have  been  severe.  He  was  not  imaginative,  and 
he  had  also  a  large  share  both  of  moral  and  physical 
*  See  further  information  in  Gt.  Har.,  vol.  I,  p.  176,  t  seq. 


138 


MEMORANDA. 


courage.  Hence  Ins  truthfulness  was  undoubted,  and 
he  was  neither  liable  to  be  easily  frightened,  nor  imposed 
on  by  any  trick  of  fancy. 

One  summer  evening,  just  before  sunset,  as  he  was 
returning  from  the  neighboring  town,  and  riding  leis¬ 
urely  and  thoughtfully  through  his  front  yard,  he 
chanced  to  look  into  a  garden  adjoining,  and  there  he 
saw  two  of  his  daughters  walking  along  the  central 
avenue,  not  side  by  side,  but  one  following  at  a  little 
distance  after  the  other.  These  girls  were  then  sup¬ 
posed  to  be  sinking  with  the  consumption,  a  malady 
which  had  carried  off  several  of  the  family.  Fearing 
they  might  take  cold  by  exposure  to  the  evening  dew, 
my  grandfather  called  them  byname,  and  desired  them 
to  come  directly  into  the  house.  Upon  this  they  quick¬ 
ened  their  pace ;  and  passing  through  a  gap  in  the  wall, 
that  opened  into  a  large  peach-orchard  beyond,  they 
disappeared  from  his  view.  There  was  a  row  of  trees 
standing  along  the  wall  between  the  garden  and  peach 
orchard,  and  these,  as  well  as  the  garden  itself,  were 
covered  by  a  luxuriant  grape-vine,  which  in  fact  nearly 
closed  the  passage,  also,  with  the  delicate  tracery  of  its 
young  and  tender  branches ;  so  that  all  beyond  the 
space  where  the  figures  seemed  to  enter,  lay  in  deep 
shadow.  My  grandfather  thought  this  conduct  very 
strange ;  for  he  was  accustomed  to  strict  obedience  and 
respect  from  all  the  members  of  his  family.  Full  of 
anxiety,  he  hurried  into  the  house,  and  proceeding 
directly  to  my  grandmother’s  sitting-room,  he  earnestly 
addressed  her,  in  his  accustomed  manner: — 

11  Mother,  why  do  you  let  the  girls  stay  out  so  late? 
Don’t  you  think  they  will  take  cold  ?  ” 


SPIRITUAL  APPEARANCES. 


139 


“  What  girls  ?  ”  she  asked. 

“  Why  Susan  and  Hetty,”  he  replied.  “  They  are 
walking  in  the  garden,  and  in  very  thin  white  dresses.” 

“What  makes  you  talk  so?”  returned  my  grand¬ 
mother;  “they  are  not  in  the  garden,  and  have  not 
been  there  for  a  long  time.  Nor  are  they  dressed  in 
white.  They  are  up  stairs.” 

“Why  mother!”  he  responded,  “I  saw  them  with 
my  own  eyes,  and  just  as  plainly  as  I  see  you  at  this 
moment.  They  were  walking  in  the  garden ;  and 
when  I  called  to  them  to  come  in,  they  turned  round 
and  looked  at  me ;  and  then  they  went  off  into  the 
peach  orchard,  when  I  lost  sight  of  them.  I  certainly 
thought  their  conduct  very  strange.” 

“  You  must  be  mistaken,  father.  They  have  not 
been  down  stairs  for  several  hours.  I  will  go  and 
speak  to  them,  in  order  to  convince  you  of  your 
mistake.” 

As  she  spoke  she  stepped  into  the  hall,  and  called  the 
girls  to  come  down,  when  they  immediately  came,  and 
both  of  them  in  dark  dresses.  They  looked  very  pale 
and  miserable ;  and  my  grandfather  found  it  difficult 
to  conceal  his  secret  anxiety  on  their  account.  But  he 
questioned  them  very  closely,  whether  they  had  been 
out  walking,  or  had  lately  changed  their  dresses  ;  when 
they  both  averred  that  they  had  not  changed  their 
clothes  since  morning,  or  been  in  the  garden  during  the 
day. 

In  a  very  short  time  these  girls  fell  a  prey  to  the 
disease  which  was  then  corroding  their  vitals  ;  and  the 
order  of  their  death  was  that  of  the  appearance  and 
disappearance  of  their  forms  as  seen  by  my  grandfather. 


HO 


MEMORANDA. 


This  story  was  often  told  in  the  family,  as  one  of  those 
unaccountable  events  which  were  in  those  times,  called 
very  strange,  and  wondered  at — but  never  accounted  for. 
The  character  of  the  witness  precluded  all  question  of  the 
fact ;  but  no  one,  in  those  days,  ever  dreamed  that  the  oc¬ 
currence  might  be  explained  on  philosophical  principles. 

To  the  above  account  I  will  now  add  another,  which 
was  related  to  me  by  a  friend,  who  well  knew  the  cir¬ 
cumstances;  for  they  occurred  in  her  own  family.  My 
narrator  had  an  aunt,  who  was  the  wife  of  a  sea-cap¬ 
tain,  residing,  I  think,  in  Bristol,  R.  I.  One  day.  while 
her  husband  was  away  at  sea,  as  a  little  girl  of  six  years 
old,  daughter  of  the  above  lady,  was  standing  in  a  chair 
by  the  window,  suddenly  her  eyes  were  fixed,  and  her 
whole  person  became  rigid,  as  if  she  were  about  passing 
into  a  fit,  when  she  uttered  a  fearful  screech,  her  whole 
countenance  wearing  the  expression  of  one  who  was 
looking  on  some  fearful  and  distressing  scene.  Her 
mother,  and  other  friends,  hurried  to  her  relief;  and 
inquiring  what  ailed  her,  strove  to  withdraw  her  from 
the  window.  But  she  clung  to  the  casement,  begging 
not  to  be  taken  away.  In  the  mean  time,  redoubling 
her  screeches,  she  cried  out  in  the  intervals  :  “  Oh  ,  my 
father !  he  is  drowning  in  the  water  ! — he  is  drowning 
in  the  water !”  In  this  state  she  remained  half  an 
hour  :  and  during  this  time  no  effort  could  soothe 
or  pacify  her ;  but  afterwards  she  sank  to  sleep  from 
mere  exhaustion.  The  circumstance  was  so  remark¬ 
able  that  the  exact  time  of  the  paroxysm  was  noted 
down ;  and  when  the  next  news  from  the  ship  ar¬ 
rived,  it  was  found  that  the  father  of  the  child  had, 
at  the  precise  time  of  the  attack,  fallen  overboard 


THE  WORLD  MOVES. 


141 


in  a  storm.  For  one  half  hour  he  was  swimming  after 
the  vessel ;  and  those  on  board  being  unable  to  save  him, 
he  was  drowned. 

The  little  girl  who  manifested  this  high  degree  of 
natural  clairvoyance,  wa3  a  very  beautiful  and  preco¬ 
cious  child — one  of  those  sweet  angel  natures  that  some¬ 
times  shine  over  the  dark  ground  of  life,  a  ray  of  peer¬ 
less  light,  which  is  too  soon  absorbed  by  the  heaven, 
from  whence  it  had  stolen  away.  She  died  very  early. 


47. 


THE  WORLD  MOVES.' 

Hartford,  March  6,  1850. 

The  managers  of  periodicals  begin  to  acknowledge 
the  law  of  progression,  at  least  in  things  temporal.  It 
is  freely  admitted  that — 

“  Philosophy,  since  it  was  directed  to  the  attainment  of  a  knowl¬ 
edge  of  the  properties  and  laws  of  matter,  has  already  discovered 
and  performed  so  much,  that  the  commonest  necessaries  of  life 
are  now  the  production  of  the  most  complicated  and  wonderful 
inventions:  and  tire  condition  of  the  humble  peasant  in  point 
of  solid  comfort  and  luxury,  is  superior  to  that  of  the  wealthiest 
noble  three  centuries  ago;  the  conveniences  and  splendor  of  the 
rich  are  such  as  the  inonarchs  of  old  never  imagined  even  in 
their  wildest  dreams,  and  the  common  and  daily  spectacles  of  life 
are  of  such  a  character  that  would  have  startled  our  ancestors  as 
the  work  of  supernatural  agency. 

.  .  .  Let  these  magazine  editors  keep  their  eyes  open, 
and  let  them  look  far  enough  into  the  essential  nature 
of  things,  and  they  will  as  freely  admit  that  the  pro- 


142 


MEMORANDA. 


gressive  law  operates  with  equal  power  and  success  in 
realms  spiritual  and  eternal. 


48. 


INJUSTICE  TO  SWEDENBORG. 

Bridgeport,  May  17,  1850. 

On  returning  from  Stratford  to-day  a  gentleman,  a 
very  ardent  friend  of  Swedenborg’s,  showed  me  a  copy 
of  the  London  Athenaeum ,  which,  in  the  course  of  a  very 
long  and  elaborate  review  of  Davis’s  Revelations,  con¬ 
tains  the  following : 

“Time  will  roll  on,  and  the  revelations  of  Andrew  Jackson 
Davis  will  be  put  on  their  proper  shelf,  in  that  curious  museum 
which  men  call  human  nature.  One  man,  we  foresee,  will  be 
treated  with  injustice — we  mean  Emanuel  Swedenborg.  Davis 
and  he  will  be  classed  together.  Against  this  we  protest.  We 
have  read  enough  of  Swedenborg  to  justify  us  to  ourselves  in  de¬ 
claring  that  we  would  rather  believe  his  supernatural  communi¬ 
cations  upon  his  own  word,  than  Davis’s  upon  any  possibly  attain¬ 
able  amount  of  evidence.” 

...  It  seems  to  me  that  the  “friends”  of  Sweden¬ 
borg  are  the  worst  enemies  that  noble  Seer  ever  had. 
For  example,  recentty,  one  of  his  “  friends  ”  wrote  this 
curious  sentence : — 

“  No  small  proof  of  Swedenborg’s  claims,  is  the  fact  that  such 
a  person  as  Davis  has  arisen  ;  for  history  informs  us  that  when  a 
new  dispensation  has  been  given,  a  counter  one  of  evil  has  ap¬ 
peared.  ” 

...  So  long  as  the  receivers  of  the  doctrines  of 


SOMETHING  WOKTli  REMEMBERING. 


143 


Swedenborg  plant  themselves  upon  such  ground,  they 
need  not  expect  to  grow  in  love  and  wisdom,  to  say 
nothing  of  “Charity”  which  is  the  brightest  angel  vir¬ 
tue  in  the  heaven  of  their  Master. 


49. 


SOMETHING  WORTH  REMEMBERING. 

New  York,  Hay  24,  1850. 

A  young  merchant,  doing  business  in  Cortlandt 
Street,  is  very  anxious  to  bring  his  neighbor  to  grief 
through  the  law.  He  went  to  the  “  rappings  ”  for  in 
struction,  and  to  find  out  whether  he  would  succeed. 
The  judicious  spirits,  much  to  my  joy,  would  not  “  rap  ” 
for  him  !  But  a  gentleman  present  told  the  young  mer¬ 
chant  the  following  facts,  which  I  think  are  well  worth 
remembering  : — 

“  A  farmer  cut  down  a  tree,  which  stood  so  near  the  boundary 
line  of  his  farm  that  it  was  doubtful  whether  it  belonged  to  him 
or  his  neighbor.  The  neighbor,  however,  claimed  the  tree,  and 
prosecuted  the  man  who  cut  it,  for  damages.  The  case  was  com¬ 
mitted  from  court  to  court.  Time  was  wasted,  temper  soured, 
and  temper  lost ;  but  the  case  was  finally  gained  by  the  prose¬ 
cutor.  The  last  my  friend  knew  of  the  transaction  was,  the  man 
who  ‘gained  the  cause’  came  to  the  lawyer’s  office  to  execute  a 
deed  of  his  whole  farm,  which  he  had  been  compelled  to  sell  to 
pay  his  costs!  Then  houseless,  and  homeless,  he  could  thrust 
his  hand  into  his  pocket,  and  triumphantly  exclaim — ‘I’VE  BEAT 
HIM!”’ 


144: 


MEMORANDA. 


50. 


MR.  GEORGE  RIPLEY,  LITERARY  EDITOR  OF  THE  TRIBUNE 

New  York,  June  8,  1850. 

It  was  my  good  fortune  to-day  to  meet,  or  rather  to 
see,  Mr.  Ripley,  with  two  other  gentlemen,  investigating 
the  “phenomena”  occurring  through  the  magnetic 
mediumship  of  the  “  Fox  Family,”  now  holding  daily 
sessions  at  Barnum’s  Hotel,  in  Broadway.  While  the 
rappings,  like  the  clickings  of  Morse’s  telegraph,  are 
spelling  out  messages  in  answer  to  questions  put  by 
strangers  gathered  around  the  table,  I  am  constrained 
to  take  “  impressions  ”  of  Mr.  George  Ripley  ;  but,  hap¬ 
pily  for  him,  it  is  all  going  on  in  me  without  his  knowl¬ 
edge,  and  it  sums  up  as  follows  : — 

Here  is  a  marked  and  thoughtful  man — a  conscien¬ 
tious  scholar  ;  possessing  great  sweetness  of  disposition  ; 
in  full  sympathy  with  the  advanced  thoughts  of  his 
own  generation,  grasping  with  gloved  hands  the  great 
problems  of  social  ethics,  religion,  and  philosophy  ;  a 
warm  friend  to  all  who  sincerely  work  for  humanity, 
although  he  may  regard  them  as  vitally  mistaken ;  in¬ 
dependent  of  authorities  ir  matters  of  literature  and 
religion,  and  firmly  advocating  the  principle  that  “un¬ 
limited  liberty  of  speculation  ought  to  be  universally 
tolerated.”  For  some  reason,  unaccountable  as  yet,  T 


VISIT  FROM  ANGEL  WILSON. 


145 


can  not  but  think  that  Spinoza,  the  great  German 
thinker  of  the  seventeenth  century,  is  Mr.  Ripley’s  true 
intellectual  counterpart  and  occasional  guardian.  I 
seem  to  see  Mr.  Ripley  writing  the  Ethica — or  editing 
and  publishing  some  immense  book,  possibly  the  Trac- 
latus  Theologico  Politicus  of  Spinoza — and  I  seem 
further  to  see  that  he  will  be,  unlike  the  great  meta¬ 
physician,  fully  appreciated  by  the  people  among  whom 


he  labors . But,  why  is  this  gentleman  such  a 

foreigner  to  me  ?  It  seems  that  I  can  never  talk  with 
him . He  is  to  me  a  stranger  1 


51. 

ANOTHER  VISIT  FROM  ANGEL  WILSON. 

Hartford,  Conn.,  November  25,  1850. 

To-day  I  am  overflowing  with  an  inexpressible  grate¬ 
ful  joyousness.  Through  the  solemn  stillness,  as  comes 
a  serapli’s  song  from  the  stars,  Brother  \V  ilson  floated 
down  to  me  in  this  very  house.  lie  is  a  wingless  being, 
as  are  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  higher  spheres,  and  yet 
he  soars  aloft  with  air-pinions  I  can  not  discern.  He 
walked  unheeded  by  others  into  this  little  room,  and, 
with  beautiful  human  eyes  and  tender  language,  gave 
me  his  second  message.* 

O 

*  This  account  was  subsequently  published  in  “Philosophy  of  Spiritual 
Intercourse,”  p.  151 

7 


MEMORANDA 


UG 


5a. 

FRANKLIN’S  DISCOVERY  OF  THE  RAPPING  TELEGRAPH. 

Hartford,  January  6,  1851. 

I  have  just  written  out  a  verbatim  report  of  a  com¬ 
munication  received  this  morning  from  the  illustrious 
American  philosopher,  Benjamin  Franklin,  whose  great 
personal  influence  yet  lingers  upon  me,  and  seems  to 
All  every  object  in  the  room  with  a  profound  presence.* 

. I  am  physically  weary,  or  sleepy,  perhaps,  and 

so  will  not  now  write  what  I  had  in  my  mind. 


53. 


THE  FACTS  INCONTROVERTIBLE. 

Hartford,  February  9,  1851. 

A  distinguished  professor  in  one  of  the  New  York 
institutions  of  learning,  has  had  the  courage  to  make 
the  following  acknowledgment  in  a  lecture  to  his 
class : — 

“  If  the  circumstances  in  respect  to  Davis  had  occurred  at  a 
distant  period,  then  might  they  have  been  doubted';  but  this  is 

*  This  communication  was  printed  in  “  Philosophy  of  Spiritual  Inter 
course,”  p.  77,  et  seq. 


A  DECEASED  FRIEND. 


147 


not.  the  case,  as  they  happened,  as  it  were,  but  yesterday,  and  in 
a  city  where,  if  any  fraud  had  been  practiced,  it  could  not  have 
failed  to  have  been  detected  ;  for  not  only  did  the  various  inci¬ 
dents  have  to  bear  the  rigid  scrutiny  of  its  bitter  opposers,  but  at 
the  same  time  the  potent  agency  of  money  was  invoked,  and  a 
reward  of  five  hundred  dollars  was  offered  to  detect,  if  possible, 
the  so-called  imposition.  Though  six  months  were  allowed  for 
this  purpose,  yet  it  was  in  vain  ;  the  proof  was  wanting,  and  to 

this  day  the  facts  of  the  case  remain  incontrovertible . 

After  this,  who  will  not  have  faith  in  the  Galileo  affirmation  that 
“  the  world  moves  /” 

A  writer  in  the  Quarterly  Theological  Review,  ad¬ 
verting  to  the  great  religious  and  governmental  agitation 
of  the  times,  says:  “The  fountains  of  the  great  deep 
have  been  broken  up,  and  a  deluge  of  information — 
theological,  scientific,  and  civil — is  carrying  all  before 
it,  filling  up  the  valleys  and  scaling  the  mountain-tops. 

.  A  spirit  of  inquiry  has  gone  forth,  and  sits 

brooding  on  the  mind  of  man.” 


54. 

TALK  WITH  A  DECEASED  FRIEND. 

Hartford,  October  19,  1851. 

The  following  minutes  of  a  conversation  held  with 
the  spirit  of  a  departed  friend,  who  left  this  mortal  state 
in  June,  1849,  is  not  published  as  any  evidence  of  the 
truth  of  the  remarkable  phenomena  of  alleged  inter¬ 
course  with  disembodied  spirits. 

The  object  of  publishing  the  colloquy  is  simply  to  re¬ 
fute  the  common  assumption  that  nothing  is  ever  com - 


148 


MEMORANDA. 


municated  from  the  spirit  world  by  these  new  agencies 
that  is  of  the  slightest  importance.  The  responses,  it  is 
said,  are  uniformly  frivolous,  useless,  and  uninteresting. 

Here  is  a  specimen,  copied  verbatim  from  notes 
hastily  taken  down  as  the  words  were  uttered  by  the 
clairvoyant:  The  deceased,  Mr.  C.,  was  a  man  of  de¬ 
cided  intelligence,  energy,  and  philanthropy,  and  these 
responses  are  very  like  his  manner  of  speaking  while  on 
earth.  But  to  the  questions  and  answers  : — 

Question.  Mr.  C.,  had  the  human  race  a  conscious 
existence  before  we  came  on  this  earth  ? 

Answer.  Soul-matter  had  an  existence,  but  not  a  con¬ 
scious  existence. 

Q.  Are  there  any  spirits  which  exert  an  evil  or  ma¬ 
lignant  influence  on  human  actions  and  conditions  ? 

A.  Yes:  But  not  because  they  desire  to  do  so,  but 
because  of  their  inferior  or  gross  organization. 

Q.  Are  there  are  any  human  spirits  which  have 
passed  from  earth  which  are  not  in  a  state  of  progress 
or  improvement  ? 

A.  No:  But  some  progress  slowly,  having  a  very 
gross  organization  to  begin  with. 

Q.  Do  you  know  Edgar  A.  Foe,  the  poet  ? 

A.  Yes. 

Q.  In  what  sphere  is  he  ? 

A.  I  have  a  different  classification  from  others. 

[Question  pressed.] 

A.  He  is  in  [what  1  consider]  the  third  society, 
second  sphere. 

Q.  Are  there  any  spirits  in  a  state  of  misery  or  pain, 
so  as  to  feel  their  existence  a  burden  ? 

A.  There  are  some  who  have  a  mental  suffering. 


A  DECEASED  FRIEND. 


149 


because  they  did  not  improve  [or  misused]  their  advan¬ 
tage  while  on  earth. 

Q.  Are  there  any  so  separated  from  their  friends  as 
to  cause  them  unhappiness — not  being  allowed  the 
society  of  those  they  love  best  ? 

A.  If  they  might  [now]  have  been  associated  with 
those  friends  by  improving  their  advantages  [when]  on 
earth,  then  they  are  unhappy. 

Q.  Are  there  any  who  despair  of  ever  attaining  the 
condition  of  the  blest? 

A.  They  may  at  times,  but  not  lastingly. 

Q.  Does  the  state  in  which  Mr.  C.  now  is  seem  more 
immediately,  palpably,  under  the  Divine  Government 
than  our  condition  ? 

A.  Its  inhabitants  see  more  clearly,  as  they  have 
progressed  further. 

Q.  Are  there  any  in  that  state  who  disbelieve  the 
existence  of  the  Deity  ? 

A.  They  do  not  disbelieve  it,  but  some  do  not  com¬ 
prehend  it. 

Q.  Then  the  Deity  is  not  visible  from  that  sphere  ? 

A.  He  is  nowhere  visible.  We  receive  impressions 
from  Him,  but  do  not  see  Him. 

Q.  Are  the  Apostles  and  founders  of  Christianity 
visible  to  Mr.  C.  ? 

A.  No  :  none  who  are  in  a  higher  sphere  are  visible 
to  those  in  a  lower. 

Q.  Can  those  in  a  higher  sphere  communicate  to 
those  in  a  lower  ? 

A.  Yes. 

Q.  When  Clairvoyants  suppose  they  see  Apostles,  &c. 
are  they  deceived  ?  or  do  they  really  see  as  they  suppose  < 


150 


MEMORANDA. 


A.  Many  of  tliem  think  they  see  the  Apostle  Paul, 
or  whoever  else  they  wish  to  communicate  with,  when 

they  really  do  not. 

Q.  When  a  mother,  who  dearly  loves  her  good  child, 
but  who  has  lived  unworthily,  goes  to  the  spirit  world, 
is  she,  or  is  she  not,  permitted  to  see  her  child  before 
she  has  attained  his  sphere  ? 

A.  She  does  not  see  him,  but  receives  impressions 
from  him. 

Q.  Does  he  see  her  ? 

A.  Yes ;  he  communicates  to  her,  and  watches  over 
her. 

Q.  Have  former  generations  passed  away,  so  that 
they  can  not  be  seen  from  Mr.  C.’s  present  sphere? 

A.  Some  have,  and  some  have  not. 

Q.  Could  Mr.  C.  see  Adam  and  the  ancient  patri¬ 
archs  ? 

A.  Ho. 

Q.  Is  this  new  ability  on  our  part  to  communicate 
with  the  spirit  world  a  consequence  of  any  change  or 
improvement  in  the  human  family  ? 

A.  Yes:  The  human  race  have  become  more  re¬ 
fined  and  susceptible  [to  impressions  from  the  spirit 
world]  than  formerly. 

[It  was  here  casually  stated  by  some  one  present  that 
Mr.  C.  had  stated,  on  a  former  occasion,  that  idiots 
have  no  immortal  existence.  The  present  querist  de¬ 
murred  to  this,  and  asked] 

Q.  Do  children  who  die  in  conscious  infancy,  live  in 
the  future  state  ? 

A.  The  moment  an  infant  has  been  ushered  into  the 
world,  an  individuality  has  been  formed,  which  con- 


A  DECEASED  FRIEND. 


151 


tinues  to  exist,  provided  tlie  physical  constitution  was 
perfected—  not  otherwise. 

Q.  Then  why  do  not  animals  also  have  an  immortal 
existence? 

A.  Man  has  a  peculiar  formation,  which  animals 
have  not.  To  all  who  have  that  formation,  Soul  ad¬ 
heres — not  to  others. 

Q.  Can  Mr.  C.  give  us  any  idea  of  his  present  locality 
in  space — whether  it  is  on  any  particular  planet,  or 
around  this  earth  ? 

A.  Human  spirits  love  to  hover  around  this  earth, 
but  they  are  not  confined  to  it. 

Q.  Do  those  born  on  the  several  planets  usually  re¬ 
main  each  on  that  which  was  his  birth-place? 

[Answer  not  taken  down,  but  believed  to  have  been 
affirmative.] 

Q.  Are  the  planets  visible  to  Mr.  C.  ? 

A.  Yes. 

Q.  Does  Mr.  C.  see  this  outer,  material  earth  ? 
Does  he  see  it  as  we  do,  with  our  material  eyes  ? 

A.  He  perceives  the  earth  as  a  highly  material  body. 

[The  above  is  all  that  we  noted  down,  though  a 
few  other  questions  were  asked  and  answered,  which 
were  not  noted  at  the  time.  On  another  occasion,  it 
was  stated,  in  reply  to  a  question,  that  all  created  ex¬ 
istences  are  first  clothed  in  material  bodies,  passing 
thence  into  purer  and  more  spiritual  forms,  and  that 
the  inhabitants  of  the  higher  planets,  like  Saturn,  pass 
through  a  change  from  the  material  to  the  purely 
spiritual  state  equivalent  to  our  Death,  but  one  unat¬ 
tended  by  pain,  and  which  is  desired,  not  dreaded.] 


152 


MEMORANDA. 


55. 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  RELIGIOUS  HERALD  DENOUNCES 
THE  SUPERIOR  CONDITION. 

Hartford,  October  20,  1851. 

In  the  Hew  England  Religious  Herald  of  this  week 
is  to  be  found  a  somewhat  lengthy  review  of  what  it 
calls  “  superior  illumination.”  The  writer  strikes  out 
quite  energetically,  and  makes  several  vigorous  com¬ 
ments  upon  “  Hature’s  Divine  Revelations.”  The 
whole  matter,  in  the  reviewer’s  opinion,  is  summed  up 
and  logically  disposed  of,  by  stating  that  the  “  superior 
state”  is  very  inferior ,  “compared  with  that  of  vigor¬ 
ous  health  and  activity  of  the  bodily  powers.”  This 
opinion  may  be  confidently  entertained  by  all  who  have 
not  studied  the  principles  and  phenomena  of  the  hu¬ 
man  mind ;  but  by  the  enlightened  psychologist  and 
metaphysician  a  vastly  different  opinion  is  obtained 
and  cherished. 

The  reviewer  says  :  “  In  all  ages  of  the  world,  those 
persons  who  have  claimed  these  remarkable  powers  of 
looking  into  the  future,  reading  destiny,  and  seeing 
things  afar  off,  have  been  almost  entirely  persons  of 
inferior  mental  power ,  connected  with  low  tribes  of 
gypsies  and  vagrants ,  and  having  almost  no  knowledge 
of  the  best  truths  of  being.”  How  history  records  a 


THE  SUPERIOR  CONDITION. 


153 


different  verdict,  and  the  writer  of  the  article  in  ques¬ 
tion  should  have  known  it.  Thucidydes,  in  speaking 
of  Themistocles,  (see  Dasmonologia,  page  128,)  says: 
“  By  a  species  of  sagacity  peculiarly  his  own,  for  which 
he  was  in  no  degree  indebted  to  early  education  or  after 
study,  he  was  supereminently  happy  in  forming  a  cor¬ 
rect  judgment  in  matters  that  admitted  but  little  time 
for  deliberation ;  surpassing,  at  the  same  time,  all  his 
common  deductions  of  the  future  from,  the  past." 
Tacitus  foresaw  the  dire  calamities  which  desolated 
Europe  on  the  downfall  of  the  Roman  Empire,  and 
predicted  them  in  a  work  500  years  before  they  came 
to  pass.  Bishop  Williams,  in  the  time  of  Charles  the 
First,  could  “see  things  afar  off,”  and  predicted  the 
ultimate  success  of  the  Puritanic  party;  and  so  certain 
was  he,  that,  when  success  was  scarcely  believed  by 
any  one  beside  himself,  he  abandoned  the  Government 
and  joined  the  obscure  party.  (See  Rush  worth,  vol.  I, 
page  420.)  Solon,  the  great  Athenian,  could  “  look 
into  the  future,  and  read  destiny,”  &c.  When  con¬ 
templating  on  the  port  and  citadel  of  Munychia,  he 
exclaimed,  “  Oh,  how  blind  is  man  to  futurity  !  Could 
the  Athenians  see  what,  mischief  they  will  do ,  they 
would  even  eat  it  with  their  own  teeth  to  get  rid  of  it.” 
The  dreams  or  previsions  of  Joseph,  Pharaoh,  and 
Nebuchadnezzar,  the  records  of  which  there  seems  no 
reason  to  dispute,  can  scarcely  be  considered  as  the 
subjective  fancies  of  their  own  minds ,  considering 
their  remarkable  fulfillment. 

In  the  same  article  the  writer  says:  “Fancy  a  world 
of  noble  beings  ....  with  tongues  lolling  out  of 
their  mouths,  their  muscles  rigid,  their  faces  clothed  in 

7* 


J  54 


MEMORANDA. 


the  pallor  of  death,  and  they  all  dreaming  out  glorious 

visions  and  gewgaw  vagaries,  &c . Say ! 

would  it  not  rather  be  a  race  of  fools  ?  ”  Let  me  ask, 
how  will  the  reviewer  explain  the  mental  conditions  of 
Ezekiel  and  Daniel  ?  These  prophets,  who  could  see 
“into  the  future,  read  destiny,”  &c.,  described  their 
condition  as  something  similar  to  what  is  now-a-days 
denominated  “the  mesmeric  state,”  and  their  mental 
state  as  analogous  to  the  “  superior  condition.”  Ezekiel 
generally  prefaces  his  “  visions”  by  such  expressions  as, 
“  The  Heavens  were  opened,”  or,  “  The  hand  of  the 
Lord  was  upon  me.”  (See  Ezek.  i.  1-3.)  Daniel,  too, 
could  enter  this  half- dying  or  superior  state,  and  see 
spiritual  things.  He  was  generally,  according  to  his 
own  affirmations,  in  a  deep  sleep,  while  obtaining  his 
impressions  of  interior  and  truthful  realities.  (See  chap, 
x.  v.  7.)  “And  I,  Daniel,  alone  saw  the  vision  .  .  . 
and  there  remained  no  strength  in  me,  for  my  comeli¬ 
ness  was  turned  in  me  into  corruption,  and  I  retained 
no  strength.  Yet  I  heard  the  voice  of  the  words;  and 
when  I  heard  the  voice  of  the  words,  then  I  was  in  a 
deep  sleep  on  my  face,  and  my  face  toward  the 
ground .”  In  the  phraseology  of  our  day,  this  “  deep 
sleep  ”  which  fell  upon  Daniel  would  be  called  the 
“  magnetic  condition,”  allowing  the  mind  an  oppor¬ 
tunity  to  exercise  its  higher  powers.  But  the  reviewer, 
doubtless,  would  consider  Daniel’s  state  very  inferior , 
“  compared  with  that  of  vigorous  health  and  activity 
of  the  bodily  powers.” 

A  new  field  of  investigation  is  thrown  open  by  the 
magnetic  marvels  of  this  era,  which  all  intelligent 
minds  should  be  willing  to  explore ;  and  may  we  not 


DOCTOR  JOHN  F.  GRAY. 


155 


expect  from  the  writer  in  the  Religious  Herald  some¬ 
thing  more  relative  to  the  question  of  the  inferior  and 
“superior”  conditions?  The  effort  may  introduce  his 
mind  into  new  regions  of  thought,  and  his  condition 
may  thereby  experience  an  improvement.  He  should 
remember  that  the  same  identical  methods  of  explain¬ 
ing  away  the  trance  state,  will  equally  and  as  forcibly 
apply  to  the  solution  of  all  “dreaming,”  “visions,” 
“prophecies,”  and  other  psychological  phenomena  re¬ 
corded  on  the  pages  of  profane  and  ecclesiastical  his¬ 
tory. 


56. 


DOCTOR  JOHN  F.  GRAY,  OF  NEW  YORK. 

Hartford,  Oct.  26,  1851. 

Yesterday,  having  business  in  Hew  York,  I  called 
upon  the  justly  celebrated  homeopathic  physician,  Dr. 
J.  F.  Gray,  and  found  him  in  his  office,  opposite  the 
Astor  Library,  in  Lafayette  Place.  ...  Of  him  my 
impressions  are :  A  searcher  and  perceiver  of  subtile 
and  occult  truths ;  sees  tine  shadings  in  the  panorama 
of  truth;  appreciates  the  spiritual  in  the  natural;  knows 
more  by  intuition  than  by  reasoning,  but  can  think 
logically  and  profoundly ;  loves  the  Greek  and  Latin 
and  German  coverings  of  thought ;  is  a  foreigner  to 
me,  and  keeps  me  at  a  long  distance  from  him,  as  much 
as  to  say,  “Hot  too  familiar,  if  you  please.”  He  is  a 
medium  for  the  intellectual  and  intuitive  perception  of 
truth.  Some  remarks  were  as  follows:— - 


156 


MEMORANDA. 


He  said,  that  I,  by  being  magnetized,  entered  the  spiritual 
legitimately.  Everybody,  he  thought,  should  be  magnetized,  if 
they  would  scientifically  approach  the  inner  life.  Substantially 
he  said,  that  “  there  is  one  truth  which  mesmerism  teaches, 
without  which  it  would  be  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  for  many 
to  receive  the  Scripture  doctrine  concerning  the  ministration  of 
spirits,  and  of  their  intercourse  with  this  world.*  .  .  .  The 

mesmeric  phenomena  prove  that  such  intercourse  is  quite  pos¬ 
sible;  for  in  the  experiments  which  have  been  made,  it  is  shown 
that  one’s  mind,  while  on  this  earth,  can  be  put  into  such  a  state 
of  quiescence,  as  to  be  completely  under  the  control  of  another. 
Thus,  it  has  been  repeatedly  exhibited,  that  a  subject  can  be  so 
acted  upon  as  to  think  what  the  magnetizer  thinks;  to  see  what 
the  operator  beholds,  even  though  his  eyes  are  bandaged ;  to 
taste  what  the  other  partakes  or  appears  to  take;  and  so  far  has 
the  transfer  been  made,  that  if  the  operator  was  pricked  with  a 
pin,  the  subject  instantaneously  felt  the  pain,  and  precisely  as  if 
it  had  been  in  his  own  body.  In  these  experiments  and  others 
of  like  nature,  it  is  exhibited  that  the  magnetizer’s  mind  or  spirit 
is  connected  and  forms  one  with  the  mind  of  the  subject — so 
much  so,  that  it  would  appear  that  the  subject’s  intellect  had 
disappeared,  and  the  magnetizer  acted  upon  and  put  in  ac¬ 
tion  a  lifeless  body.  Now  if  this  is  so,  if  it  is  true  that  one 
man’s  spirit  can  possess  another,  so  that  the  subject’s  own  con¬ 
sciousness  is  destroyed,  and  he  at  the  time  thinks  and  fully  be¬ 
lieves  that  he  is  acting  from  himself,  then  it  is  evident  that  it  is 
possible  for  spirits  from  the  hidden  world  to  act  upon  mankind 
in  the  same  manner.” 

*  Dr.  Gray  was,  at  the  time  of  the  author’s  first  visit,  a  reader  and 
receiver  of  Swedenborg. 


CHEEKING  PROPHECY. 


157 


57. 


CHEERING  PROPHECY  BY  A  SPIRIT, 

High  Rock  Tower,  Lynn,  U  ass.,  October  22,  1852. 

A  kind  friend  writes  that  at  a  meeting  of  a  circle  in 
Williamsburg  a  few  evenings  since,  Mr.B —  having  been 
carried  into  the  magnetic  state  delivered  the  following 
prophecy  dictated  by  a  spiritual  intelligence  : — 

“  Brethren  ;  be  of  good  cheer.  The  stone  is  not  yet  rolled  from 
the  sepulcher.  There  are  many  truths  which  will  yet  descend  on 
the  wings  of  angelic  love,  and  there  are  many  voices  which  will 
be  heard  above  the  din  and  strife  of  earth.  A  mighty  spiritual 
flood  will  yet  sweep  over  the  bosom  of  the  human  world  ;  a 
heavenly  power  shall  descend,  in  whose  presence  the  tongue  of 
slander  shall  cease  its  whisperings,  and  the  pen  shall  write  no 
longer  the  things  which  are  not  true.  Then  shall  the  press  be 
turned  into  a  mountain  of  light,  within  whose  glowing  beauty  the 
truths  of  angels  shall  find  a  dwelling-place.  The  theologian 
whose  interest  has  been  to  reveal  a  smoking  pit,  will  preach  a 
new  doctrine ;  and  the  physician  that  seeks  for  gain  will  heal  for 
gold  no  longer,  when  spirits  act  as  physicians  to  the  diseased  body. 
Behold  the  star  of  righteousness  is  arising,  and  the  truly  wise  men 
t  f  earth  will  go  forth  to  welcome  it.” 


158 


MEMORANDA. 


58. 


BENJAMIN  F.  WADE  AND  JOSHUA  R.  GIDDINGS,  MEM¬ 
BERS  OF  CONGRESS. 

Jefferson,  Astrabula  Co.,  0.,  November  30,  1852. 

My  engagement  to  give  a  lecture  in  this  place  brought 
me  here  just  in  time  to  shake  hands  with  the  Hon.  B. 
Wade,  who,  accompanied  by  his  affable  and  intelligent 
wife,  is  on  the  point  of  leaving  for  the  Capitol  at  Wash¬ 
ington.  I  had  less  than  ten  minutes  chat  with  him  and 
his  lady  ;  yet,  of  him,  I  carry  away  these  impressions : 
A  solid,  strong,  stormy,  positive  intellect.  Is  not  selfish, 
but  is  self-reliant.  Perceives  quickly,  reasons  much 
(for  reason  is  his  guiding  principle),  and  decides  and 
stands!  Has  much  benevolence  ;  worships  justice  and 
reality  ;  entertains  feelings  of  universal  good-will ;  but 
can  despise  what  displeases  him  with  unflinching  firm¬ 
ness  and  frankness.  Enjoys  domestic  comforts  ;  loves 
children,  friends,  and  household  pets  ;  is  orderly,  stu¬ 
dious,  industrious,  a'nd  punctual  ;  enjoys  simple  music  and 
instructive  amusements  ;  hates  pretensions  and  shams 
with  a  perfect  hate  ;  and  would  make  “  his  mark  ”  in  any 
public  or  private  position.  .  .  .  God  speed  him ! 

Of  Hon.  J.  R.  Giddings,  in  whose  house  I  am  now 
visiting  and  writing,  I  think :  He  is  not  a  sectarian, 
and  he  can  not  be  one,  for  his  intellect  is  broad,  and  his 


R.  I\  AMBLER  AND  S.  J.  FINNEY. 


159 


ideas  extend  far  beyond  the  age  in  which  he  lives.  He 
possesses  the  true  principles  of  liberty,  and  must  manifest 
them  throughout  his  public  life.  Freedom  of  thought 
and  freedom  of  speech,  must  be  his  motto.  Possessing 
strength  of  character  and  purpose,  he  is  naturally  firm 
and  decisive  in  his  actions  ;  although  an  appeal  to  his 
sympathies  would  affect  him,  even  to  vascillation  and 
weakness.  He  is  conscientious,  and  is  governed  much 
by  intuitive  perceptions  of  right.  When  surrounded  by 
opposition  his  character  is  most  fully  displayed.  He  is 
not  attractive  in  either  his  appearance  or  conversation  : 
yet,  nevertheless,  when  aroused  by  what  deeply  stirs  his 
ruling  thoughts  and  noblest  feelings,  there  are  few  men 
who  have  a  more  manly  deportment,  or  a  larger  personal 

influence  for  good . In  his  family  I  find 

education,  pleasing  manners,  and  a  welcome  that  is 
manna  upon  my  heart. 


59. 

R.  P.  AMBLER  AND  S.  J.  FINNEY  IN  HARTFORD. 

Cleveland,  O.,  December  23,  1852 

So  we  change  places . I  have  been  long 

laboring  in  Hartford.  How,  for  the  first  time,  I  ven¬ 
ture  far  out  into  the  field.  As  I  look  back  in  thought 
to  the  friends  in  that  old  Hew  England  city,  I  seem  to 
realize  how  the  timid  ones  shrink  from  the  terrific  storm 
from  the  lips  of  our  young  Brother  Finney,  the  impetu¬ 
ous  torrent  of  whose  fiery  invective,  flashing  against  the 
errors  and  prejudices  of  Theology,  with  the  fearful  light- 


160 


MhMOKANDA. 


nings  of  justice  and  truth,  is  sufficient  to  alarm  all  heed 
ful  citizens.  Happily,  I  hear,  that  Brother  Ambler  ii 
speaking  to  the  same  audiences.  His  milder  presenta¬ 
tion,  although  lacking  in  both  the  qualities  of  force  and 
depth,  will,  nevertheless,  beautifully  calm  the  troubled 
waters. 

.  .  .  .  This  morning  a  letter  comes,  printed  in 

the  “  Spirit  Messenger,”  dated  Hartford,  Ct.,  December 
8th,  only  two  weeks  ago,  in  which  I  read  : — 

Mr.  Finney  and  myself  have  delivered  several  lec¬ 
tures  in  this  city,  which  have  been  exceedingly  well  at¬ 
tended.  Thus  far  our  lectures  have  been  devoted 
chiefly  to  the  pulling  down  of  strongholds,  and  the  dis¬ 
pelling  of  theological  darkness  from  ‘the  minds  of  the 
people.  It  is  clearly  seen  by  spirits  that  the  time  has 
now  come,  when  an  open  and  fearless  exposure  of  myth¬ 
ological  errors  is  essential  to  the  reformation  which  they 
are  seeking  to  accomplish.  Hence  they  will  cause  the 
mediums  whom  they  control  to  speak  plainly  on  theo¬ 
logical  questions.  The  ground  which  has  been  falsely 
deemed  too  sacred  for  mortal  feet  to  tread  shall  be  ex¬ 
amined  by  the  light  of  Reason  ;  and  the  creeds  and 
dogmas  which  are  unable  to  endure  the  light  shall  be 
dissolved  thereby,  and  sink  back  into  their  native  dark¬ 
ness.  There  is  no  compromise  to  be  made  with  error. 
The  sun  does  not  fear  to  rise  when  night  has  thrown 
her  mantle  on  the  earth ;  but  its  rising  dispels  the 
shadowy  gloom  and  reflects  the  smile  of  God. 

Through  the  mediumship  of  Mr.  Finney,  the  spirits 
have  made  a  bold  attack  on  the  errors  of  the  Church, 
and  have  even  gone  so  far  as  to  invite  the  clergy  of  this 
city  to  a  public  investigation  of  theological  and  spiritual 


R.  P.  AMBLER  AND  S.  J.  FINNEY. 


161 


subjects.  To  timid  and  shrinking  minds,  this  course 
might  seem  to  indicate  a  want  of  earthly  policy  and  a 
lack  of  just  discrimination  and  judgment.  But  on 
careful  reflection  it  will  be  seen  by  all  true  harmonial 
philosophers  that  the  world  has  been  deceived  and  dark¬ 
ened  long  enough  by  doctrines  whose  very  tendency  is 
to  absorb  the  life  of  the  soul,  and  that  if  truth  has  been 
revealed  from  the  Heavenly  Sphere  which  will  bless 
humanity,  this  truth  should  be  spoken — freely,  boldly, 
and  fearlessly  spoken — even  though  it  should  be  opposed 
to  the  sensitive  prejudices  of  the  blinded  mind.  I  be¬ 
lieve  with  Mr.  Davis  that  ‘  we  need  more  independence 
of  soul and  I  rejoice  to  know  that  he,  with  others, 
has  been  sufficiently  independent  to  manifest  the  free¬ 
dom  which  the  truth  imparts.  In  a  recent  lecture  by 
the  seer,*  entitled  “What  will  the  people  say?”  he 
takes  the  bold  and  truthful  position  that,  “  From  the 
New  Testament  alone  you  may  find  the  entire  vocabu¬ 
lary  of  the  profane  man.”  Of  course,  in  this  expres¬ 
sion  Mr.  Davis  does  not  implicate  the  original  writers 
of  the  New  Testament,  but  simply  refers  to  the  expres¬ 
sions  in  this  book  as  they  now  stand  before  the  world 
and  are  uttered  from  the  pulpit,  and,  in  doing  so,  ex¬ 
poses  to  the  public  view  a  significant  and  notable  fact. 
How  true  and  forcible  is  the  following  sentiment 
“  The  village  pastor  talks  about  the  devil  and  hell ; 
shows  how  and  upon  what  rigid  laws  of  retributive  jus¬ 
tice  God  will  damn  the  souls  of  certain  persons ;  and 
so  the  child  and  the  thoughtless  man  learn  to  employ 
the  same  terms  and  epithets,  in  the  same  emphatic,  God- 

*  The  lecture  here  referred  to  was  published  in  The  1  'armonial  Yin, 
p.  115,  ct  seq. 


162 


MEMORANDA. 


like  manner  as  the  minister  of  the  Gospel.”  In  the 
light  of  this  truth  does  it  not  become  evident  that  to 
prevent  profanity  in  the  streets,  we  must  first  stop  the 
use  of  the  same  expressions  in  the  pulpit  ?  And  how 
shall  this  be  accomplished  without  an  open  and  fearless 
exposure  of  the  wrong  ? 

My  friends  may,  perhaps,  be  pleased  to  know  that  in 
my  public  lectures  I  speak  entirely  under  the  control  of 
an  unseen  Intelligence,  usually  not  knowing  even  the 
subject  on  which  I  am  to  speak  previous  to  my  appear¬ 
ance  before  the  audience . 

Thine  as  ever,  R.  P.  Ambler. 


6. 


SPIRIT  VOICE  HEARD  BY  A  FERRYMAN. 

Cincinnati,  0.,  January  8,  1863. 

A  gentleman  of  this  city,  an  artist  con  amore ,  and  a 
banker  of  large  wealth,  has  just  brought  me  a  remark¬ 
able  tale  of  circumstantial  evidence.  It  seems  that  a 
farmer  in  one  of  the  western  counties  of  England  was 
met  by  a  man  whom  he  had  formerly  employed,  and 
who  again  asked  for  work.  The  farmer  (rather  with  a 
view  to  be  relieved  from  his  importunity  than  with  any 
intention  of  assisting  him)  told  him  he  would  think  of 
it,  and  send  word  to  the  place  where  the  man  told  him 
he  should  be  found.  Time  passed  on,  and  the  farmer 
entirely  forgot  his  promise.  One  night,  however,  he 
suddenly  started  from  his  sleep,  and,  awaking  his  wife, 
said  he  felt  a  strong  impulse  to  set  off  immediately  to 


SPIRIT  VOICE  HEARD. 


16? 


The  county  town,  some  30  or  40  miles  distant,  but  why 
he  had  not  the  least  idea.  He  endeavored  to  shake  off 
the  impression  and  went  to  sleep  again,  but  awoke  a 
second  time  with  such  a  strong  conviction  that  he  must 
start  that  instant,  that  he  directly  rose,  saddled  his 
horse,  and  set  off.  On  his  road  he  had  to  cross  a  ferry, 
which  he  could  only  do  at  one  hour  of  the  night,  when 
the  mail  was  carried  over.  He  was  almost  certain  that 
he  should  be  too  late,  but  nevertheless  rode  on,  and 
when  he  came  to  the  ferry,  greatly  to  his  surprise,  found 
that  though  the  mail  had  passed  over  a  short  time  pre¬ 
viously,  the  ferryman  was  still  waiting.  On  his  ex¬ 
pressing  his  astonishment,  the  boatman  replied  :  u  Oh, 
when  I  was  on  the  other  side  I  heard  you  shouting, 
and  so  came  back  again.”  The  farmer  said  he  had  not 
shouted  ;  but  the  other  repeated  his  assertion  that  he 
had  distinctly  heard  him  call.  Having  crossed  over, 
the  farmer  pursued  his  journey,  and  arrived  at  the 
county  town  the  next  morning.  But  now  that  he  had 
come  there,  he  had  not  the  slightest  notion  of  any  busi¬ 
ness  to  be  transacted,  and  so  amused  himself  by  saunt¬ 
ering  about  the  place,  and  at  length  entered  the  court 
where  the  assizes  were  being  held.  The  prisoner  at  the 
bar  had  just  been,  to  all  appearance,  proved  clearly 
guilty,  by  circumstantial  evidence,  of  murder;  and  he 
was  then  asked  if  he  had  any  witnesses  to  call  in  his 
behalf.  He  replied  that  he  had  no  friends  there,  but 
looking  around  the  court  amongst  the  spectators,  he 
recognized  the  farmer,  who  almost  immediately  recog¬ 
nized  in  him  the  man  who  had  applied  to  him  for  work  ; 
the  farmer  was  instantly  summoned  to  the  witness-box, 
and  his  evidence  proved,  beyond  the  possibility  of  a 


164 


MEMORANDA. 


doubt,  that  at  the  very  hour  the  prisoner  was  accused 
of  committing  murder  in  one  part  of  the  county,  he 
was  applying  for  work  in  another.  The  prisoner  was, 
of  course,  acquitted,  and  the  farmer  found  that,  urged 
on  by  an  uncontrollable  impulse  which  he  could  neither 
explain  nor  account  for,  he  had,  indeed,  taken  his  mid¬ 
night  journey  to  some  purpose,  notwithstanding  it  had 
appeared  so  unreasonable  and  causeless.  “  This  is  the 
Lord’s  doing,  and  it  is  marvelous  in  our  eyes.” 

Is  it  a  mere  idle  imagination  to  suppose  that  the  spirit 
of  some  departed  friend  should  have  perceived  the  ex¬ 
treme  danger  of  the  poor  laborer,  and  also  the  only 
means  by  which  his  innocence  could  have  been  estab¬ 
lished  ;  and,  hurrying  on  the  wings  of  love  to  the  sleep¬ 
ing  farmer,  suggested  a  journey  to  the  scene  of  interest 
and  danger,  reiterating  the  impression  with  a  dictate 
of  imperative  authority  ?  This  must  have  been  so — and 
what  songs  of  joy  rang  through  the  echoing  aisles  of 
Heaven,  at  the  redemption  of  the  innocent  from  the 
bondage  of  a  cruel  and  unrighteous  law  ! 


61. 


A  PHRENOLOGICAL  DESCRIPTI  ON  BY  A  BLIND  PROFESSOR. 

Cincinnati,  0.,  January  12,  1853. 

The  accompanying  delineation  of  my  character  by 
F.  Bly,  a  perfectly  blind  phrenologist,  was  given  this 
day,  and  is  recorded  as  a  kind  of  curiosity.  Possibly 
some  of  it  is  correct : — 


A  PHRENOLOGICAL  DESCRIPTION. 


165 


Temperament — nervous  bilious ;  brain  full  size,  favor¬ 
ably  balanced  for  contentment  and  happiness. 

The  scale,  in  numbering  the  various  organs  or  facul¬ 
ties,  is  from  one  to  twenty,  as  follows: — 1,  very  small; 
4,  small;  7,  moderate;  10,  medium;  13,  full;  16, 
large  ;  20,  very  large.  Here  is  the  size  of  each  individ 
nal  function  or  organ  : — 

1  Amativeness,  9 

2  Philoprogenitiveness,  10 

3  Adhesiveness,  19 

4  Inhabitiveness,  7 

5  Concent  rati  veness,  15 

6  Coinbati veness,  3 

7  Destructiveness,  5 

8  Alimentiveness,  8 

9  Acquisitiveness,  7 

10  Secretiveness,  9 

1 1  Cautiousness,  14 

12  A pprobati veness,  10 

13  Selt'-Esteein,  11 

14  Firmness,  19 

15  Conscientiousness,  18 

16  Hope,  20 

17  Marvelousness,  6 

18  Veneration,  15 

19  Benevolence,  17 

20  Constructiveness,  14 

21  Ideality,  19 

This  combination  of  phrenological  development  will 
give  one  of  the  most  wonderful  characters  of  the  age. 
He  is  sensitive  and  impressible  to  a  high  degree;  yet 
his  mind  and  body  work  in  unison  and  harmony.  No 
man  whom  I  have  ever  examined  has  more  control 
over  his  passions  than  himself.  No  circumstances, 
however  annoying,  can  irritate  or  ruffle  the  even  tenor 
of  his  way,  because  the  intellectual  faculties  preponder¬ 
ate,  and  the  moral  principles  of  the  mind  guide  tl  e 


22  Imitation,  16 

23  Mirthfulness,  11 

24  Individuality,  20 

25  Form,  13 

26  Size,  15 

27  Weight,  12 

28  Color,  16 

29  Order,  11 

30  Calculation,  17 

31  Locality,  15 

32  Eventuality,  16 

33  Time,  15 

34  Tune,  8 

35  Language,  18 

36  Causality,  12 

37  Comparison,  19 

B  Sublimity,  19 

0  Suavity,  12 

D  An  intuitive  disposition  to 

know  human  nature,  20 


MEMORANDA. 


166 

reasoning  powers  in  the  channel  of  love  and  charity. 
He  has  not  the  spirit  of  revenge,  however  ranch  he  may 
be  injured  or  reviled,  though  he  ever  has  a  resolute 
desire  to  promote  general  good.  This  feeling  has  ever 
actuated  him  from  the  earliest  period  of  his  life  up  to 
the  present.  He  has  not  the  love  of  ambition  or 
personal  fame.  Selfishness  is  not  a  part  of  his  disposi¬ 
tion  ;  ever  kind  and  affectionate ;  warm  and  ardent  in 
his  attachment  for  his  friends;  no  particular  love  for 
place,  but  can  make  himself  at  home  wherever  his 
friends  or  labors  call  him ;  always  friendly  and  social 
to  ever  one,  yet  he  seeks  not  the  applause  of  men.  It 
is  natural  for  him  to  be  devotional,  watchful,  and  prayer¬ 
ful,  though  with  this  organization  of  mind  it  is  impos¬ 
sible  to  believe  and  advocate  the  popular  religious 
faith,  as  it  is  taught  by  the  orthodox  churches.  His 
intuition,  presentiment,  and  foresight,  are  preeminent ; 
his  penetration  and  perceptive  faculties  enable  him  to 
understand  and  appreciate  life  as  it  is,  and  the  laws  of 
nature  governing  mind  and  matter.  His  originality  of 
thought  and  reflection,  combined  with  the  observing 
powers,  qualify  him  to  study  the  books  of  nature  with 
success  and  interest  to  himself  and  others.  Possessing 
great  application  in  the  accomplishment  of  his  purposes, 
always  looking  forward  with  great  anticipation  to  the 
Spirit-world.  Hot  easily  discouraged  by  disappoint¬ 
ment  of  any  kind;  could  bear  misfortune  well;  always 
the  same  in  feeling  and  manner — yesterday,  to  day,  and 
forever ;  humorous  and  good-natured ;  mathematical 
talent  remarkably  good  ;  enjoys  music  and  might  exe¬ 
cute  some,  if  cultivated ;  language  well-developed, 
conveys  his  ideas  to  others  plainly  and  distinctly,  at  the 


A  SPIRIT  MOTHER. 


107 

same  time  his  style  of  speaking  is  easy  and  fluent,  well 
calculated  to  please  others ;  his  expression  is  mild  but 
forcible ;  no  man  of  mind  can  hear  him  and  not  be 
interested  ;  memory  generally  good.  This  description, 
according  to  my  science  and  judgment,  is  true.  But 
much  more  might  be  said  of  this  character. 


62. 

A  SPIRIT-MOTHER  CURES  HER  SON. 

Hartfokd,  Ct.,  September  6,  1853. 

A  New  Yorker  called  upon  me  to-day  to  relate  an 
interesting  test  of  the  idea  that  death  does  not  necessa¬ 
rily  sever  the  ties  that  bind  parents  to  children,  but  that 
guardianship  is  natural.  It  seems  that  in  the  summer 
of  1850,  Mr.  Edward  Tyler  had  a  tumor  formed  in  the 
roof  of  his  mouth,  which,  though  small  at  first,  was  ex¬ 
ceedingly  painful,  and  gradually  increased  in  size,  till  it 
assumed  an  alarming  appearance,  so  much  so  that  he 
was  compelled  to  apply  for  medical  advice — he  then 
residing  near  Boston.  The  doctor  told  him  it  must  be 
probed,  which  was  consented  to,  but  he  either  could  not 
or  would  not  tell  him  definitely  what  the  disease  was. 
After  the  probing,  it  was  for  some  time  less  painful,  but 
ere  long  it  assumed  a  more  formidable  appearance,  and 
his  anxious  friends  thought  (though  they  did  not  tell 
him)  that  it  must  be  a  cancer.  At  this  time  he  resorted 
again  to  medical  skill,  but  did  not  consult  the  same 
physician  as  before,  thinking  that  another  professional 


168 


MEMORANDA. 


man  would  give  him  more  satisfactory  assistance.  The 
tumor  was  again  opened,  but  with  no  better  permanent 
results.  Of  course,  day  by  day  and  week  by  week  the 
pain  and  inconvenience  increased,  and  the  want  of  his 
regular  food,  which  he  was  unable  to  masticate,  reduced 
him  very  much. 

It  was  now  the  summer  of  1852,  when,  in  this  state, 
he  came  with  his  family  to  reside  in  Astoria.  Soon 
after  his  removal  to  this  place,  his  friends  advised  him, 
as  a  last  resort,  to  apply  for  admission  into  the  New 
York  Hospital.  Every  thing  was  arranged  for  his  going 
there ;  but  two  or  three  days  before  the  time  appointed 
for  his  removal  to  the  hospital,  he  visited  Mrs.  Snyder’s 
circle,  accompanied  by  his  wife  and  sister,  who  also 
reside  in  Astoria.  On  this  occasion  no  one  intended  to 
consult  the  spirits  inspecting  Mr.  T.’s  mouth,  although 
he  and  most  of  his  family  had  attended  the  circle  before ; 
but  as  they  sat  with  the  circle,  and  the  spirit  of  his 
departed  mother  was  communing  with  them,  his  sister 
asked,  “  Mother,  do  you  know  how  bad  Edward’s  mouth 
is?”  She  answered  by  raps,  “Yes.”  “Do  you  know 
that  he  is  going  to  the  hospital  ?”  Ans.  “  No.”  “  But 
he  is  going.”  Ans.  “No.”  All  were  very  much  sur¬ 
prised,  as  every  one  in  the  room  (and  there  were  eight  or 
ten  persons  present)  believed  that  he  was  going  to  the 
hospital.  This,  by  the  way,  is  one  striking  illustration 
of  the  fallacy  of  the  opinion  that  the  answers  are  at  all 
times  in  accordance  with  the  mind  of  the  medium,  or 
the  parties  present. 

In  this  instance,  the  medium  (Mrs.  Snyder)  was  as 
much  astonished  at  the  positive  “  No,”  as  any  one  in 
the  room.  Then  the  question  was  asked,  “  Shall  he 


WILLIAM  AND  MARY  HOWITT. 


169 


apply  to  any  other-physician  ?”  Ans.  “  No.”  “  Is  he 
then  to  linger  out  a  miserable  existence,  and  die  with 
the  disease?”  Ans.  “No.”  “Is  there  a  cure  for  it ?” 
Ans.  “Yes.”  “Will  you  tell  us  what  he  is  to  do?” 
Ans.  “  Yes.”  At  this  time  one  of  the  company  was 
impressed  to  say,  “  I  have  known  burnt  alum  to  be  used 
with  good  effects  in  some  cases.”  Immediately  three 
violent  raps  were  heard,  indicating  that  that  was  the 
remedy  intended.  It  was  accordingly  applied,  and  its 
good  effects  were  in  a  few  days  satisfactorily  felt — first 
in  lessening  the  pain,  then  in  decreasing  the  size  of  the 
tumor;  and  finally,  without  any  other  physical  appli¬ 
cation,  an  effectual  cure  was  performed. 


63. 

VISION  OF  WILLIAM  AND  MARY  HOWITT. 

Portland,  Me.,  March  10,  1854. 

I  am  delivering  a  course  of  lectures  in  this  city.  .  .  . 
Henry  C.  Wright  is  here,*  and  the  “Hutchinson  Fami¬ 
ly”  of  natural  singers.  ...  We  spent  hours  together  in 
the  hospitable  parlor  of  the  intelligent  Widow  Dennett, 
whose  house  is  ever  open  to  reformers  of  the  pure  Gar¬ 
risonian  stamp. 

What  keen,  cold  weather !  The  very  atmosphere 
seems  to  sparkle  and  crackle  like  a  silk  dress  loaded 
with  diamonds.  .  .  .  There  is  something  mysteriously 
delicious  in  this  frosty,  crispy  air;  it  fills  me  with  live 

*  The  author’s  estimates  of  the  character  and  works  of  Mr.  Wright 
may  be  found  in  “  Tho  Reformer,”  Vol.  IV.,  Gt.  Har. 

8 


170 


MKMOKAJSTDA. 


lightning,  so  to  say,  and  promotes  lucidity  of  clairvoy¬ 
ant  vision. 

Yesterday  I  had  a  trans-Atlantic  observation. . . .  Saw 
many  places  and  persons  of  renown.  I  penetrated  the 
shadowy  walls,  and  had  a  pleasant  view  of  William  and 
Mary  Howitt,  the  noted  authors  and  translators  of  sev¬ 
eral  volumes  from  the  German.  .  .  .  There  was  a  sick 
person  in  the  house,  and  a  child.  I  could  not  clairvoy- 
antly  approach  Mr.  Howitt  without  feeling  an  influence 
from  his  sphere.  He  possesses  a  wonderful  concentra¬ 
tion  of  mind — few  things  disturb  him  ;  yet  he  is  remark¬ 
ably  sympathetic,  and  alive  to  the  nobler  impulses. 
Music  imparts  a  sense  of  pleasure  to  his  mind,  but 
chiefly  phenomenal  displays  of  divine  guidance,  with 
some  philosophical  investigations  absorb  his  thoughts. 
He  is  a  very  excellent  judge  of  human  nature;  and 
sometimes  can  almost  perceive  and  scan  the  motives  of 
men.  The  organization  of  his  person  is  extremely  well 
balanced.  His  mind  is  deep  and  reflective ;  and  the 
spiritual  and  intellectual  nature  predominates  over  the 
public  and  social.  He  seems  to  be  a  bright  and  beauti¬ 
ful  spirit,  and  his  sphere  delights  me.  .  .  .  He  could 
have  been  a  kind-hearted  and  much-beloved  minister  of 
the  Established  Church.  He  has  a  keen  appreciation 
of  true  wit ;  takes  a  peculiar  delight  in  what  others 
term  “  vagaries he  sincerely  loves  the  fine  arts  and 
good  society ;  and  the  Truth  he  worships,  but  is  not 
independent  of  precedents  and  accredited  authorities. 

Another  person  I  perceive.  .  .  .  Mrs.  Mary  Howitt,  a 
self-poised,  lady-like,  matronly,  finely  organized  woman. 
Her  round  body  is  wearing  away  somewhat  under  the 
industry  of  her  feeling,  sentiments,  and  thinking  powers. 


LECTURE  ON  ASTRONOMY. 


171 


Not  selfish,  but  is  rather  easily  absorbed  in  the  comfort 
and  education  of  others.  She  causes  others  to  feel 
brighter,  happier,  better  than  herself.  Her  magnetism 
is  stimulating,  and  acts  tonically  upon  those  she  is 
moved  to  aid.  Is  fond  of  retirement;  is  spiritual  (reli¬ 
gious)  in  feeling ;  loves  poetry  better  than  philosophy, 
and  beautiful  word-pictures  better  than  either.  ...  I 
see  harmony  and  much  independence  in  the  life  of  these 
noble  persons. 

My  visit  to-day  over  the  Atlantic  was  of  short  dura¬ 
tion — about  thirty  minutes.  ...  I  went  entirely  for  an¬ 
other  object,  a  use,  to  obtain  a  fact  in  geology  for  one 
of  my  lectures ;  but,  incidentally,  under  invitation  of 
their  guardians,  I  could  not  refuse  to  look  into  that 
home.  For  some  reason  I  did  not  observe  London  as  a 
great  city,  but  oidy  this  family  by  itself. 


64. 


A  RICH  LECTURE  ON  ASTRONOMY. 

Portland,  March  12,  18  54. 

To-day  I  have  come  within  one  of  having  a  personal 
interview  with  the  poet  Whittier;  that  is,  I  have  just 
had  a  long,  pleasant  talk  with  the  poet’s  own  brother. 
He  is  a  rather  solemn,  quiet  gentleman  ;  smiles  rarely 
and  confidentially ;  converses  with  great  caution,  like 
a  retired  clergyman,  and  looks  like  one  who  seldom 
felt  the  emotions  of  humor.  Fancy  my  great  pleasure 
when  a  friend  assured  me  that  this  same  solemn, 
thoughtful,  unsmiling  gentleman  is  the  celebrated 

o’  O  O 


172 


MEMORANDA. 


“Ethan  Spike,  Esq.,  of  Hornby,  Me.”  Not  long  since 
this  grave  man  wrote  the  following  letter  to  the  Port¬ 
land  Transcript  and  Eclectic ,  descriptive  of  matters 
and  things  in  his  part  of  the  country.  All  readers 
will  enjoy  his  amusing  report  of 

A  LECTURE  ON  ASTRONOMY. 

Perhaps  in  a  litterary  pint  of  view  aour  town  haint 
been  so  forrered  as  she  orter.  While  Polly-ticks  and 
the  millingtary  interest  has  been  carried  furder  perhaps 
than  in  any  other  place  on  the  airth,  yet  excepting 
my  own  case,  litteratoor  hasn’t  gone  beyond  coarse 
hand-writing  or  the  single  rule  of  three.  Ferlosofy 
has  been  quoted  in  this  market  below  pork ;  syence 
hasn’t  compared  with  syder ;  string  beans  has  generally 
sot  higher  than  stronomy,  letters  led  trigernometry  and 
punkins  was  ahead  of  poetry.  Naow,  haowsever,  the 
tables  is  turned  bottom  side  under.  Syence  is  riz  ! 

We’ve  got  a  Lie-see-um !  The  cry  of  Letters  is 
begun,  the  tree  of  nollidge  has  sprouted,  interlect  biles 
over  matter — that  ere  interlect  which  has  been  dor¬ 
mouse  is  naow  raoused  like  a  sleepy  lion  gittin  away 
from  Jordan. 

The  fust  lectur  of  the  season  was  gin  last  night  by 
James  Peabody,  who’s  bin  one  quarter  to  an  acade- 
mary. 

General  subjek — Stronomy. 

Partickeler  ditto — Comics. 

I  haint  time  to  gin  you  more’n  a  digestive  or  fac- 
simelar  of  the  lectur — 

Jemes  begun  by  observin  that  ef  anybody  supposed 


LECTURE  ON  ASTRONOMY. 


173 


that  the  stars  warnt  a  heap  bigger  than  they  looked, 
they  was  almighty  behind  hand.  Why,  sez  he,  there’s 
that  ar  little  shiner  called  Satan,  says  he,  don’t  look 
bigger  than  a  tater,  and  yet  according  to  Herklys — who 
knows  the  heavenly  bodies  jist  as  well  as  I  know 
father — tis  somewhat  larger  than  the  whole  county  of 
Oxford  !  An  the  leetlest  star  you  can  pick  aout,  is  as 
big  as  a  cart  wheel.  At  this  pint  Dea.  Elderberry  ris 
an  said  this  was  goin  too  fur,  twas  regelar  blasfeeme, 
contrary  to  scriptur,  and  agin  common  sense.  Then  he 
tuck  his  hat  and  cleared,  fust  spittin  aout  his  terbaker 
cud  as  a  testimony  agin  the  doctrine. 

After  speaking  of  the  milky  wav — which  he  said 
was  longer  than  the  Cumberland  or  Oxford  canawl — an 
the  moon,  which  the  onlarned  considered  to  be  a  green 
cheese,  but  which  syence  demonstrated  to  be  a  jacker- 
lantern  on  a  large  scale,  the  lecterer  proceeded  to  the 
pertickeler  part  of  his  subjek. 

COMICS,  OR  BLAZIN  STARS. 

Comics,  says  Jemes — says  he — are  of  two  kinds,  the 
Tame  and  the  Wild.  The  fust  is  peaceable — tother 
aint.  The  fust  ones  is  made  of  old  moons  as  aint  fit 
for  service,  and  is  called  by  the  oneddikated  shootin 
stars,  but  we  of  the  schools  call  em  meters.  This  dif¬ 
ference  led  the  speaker  to  remark  that  larnin  is  every 
thin. 

The  wild  kind,  says  Jemes,  is  a  different  crittur : 
bein  composed  of  nebulous  matter,  hyfolution  gass,  ox- 
side  of  cast  iron,  an  salts  of  harmonia,  makes  it  highly 
salvage  and  onsartan.  They  fust  appeared  about 


MEMORANDA. 


in 

DeuicruAomy  or  perhaps  a  little  later  in  the  year  six 
and  was  diskivered  spontaneously  from  Portland  Ob- 
servators  and  Pompey’s  pillow  in  Rooshy.  They  are  . 
pesky  things,  says  he,  oilers  gittin  up  wars,  hurrykanes, 
and  airtliquakes,  &c.  Oneasy  and  restless,  travelin 
about  faster  than  a  rale  road,  but  never  reachin  any¬ 
wheres  in  pertickeler.  Kinder  loominated  Peter 
Ruggs.  Mighty  onsartin,  they  ar — can’t  be  depended 
on.  Father  Miller  engaged  one  to  do  a  pertickeler  job 
in  ’43,  but  it  probably  got  better  tarins  somewheres 
else,  and  that  ere  job  remains  ondone  to  this  day. 

But  now,  says  Jemes,  we  come  to  consider  their  tails. 
Them,  says  he,  is  raal  numerous.  Talk  about  the 
moon’s  wondrous  tale !  Why  the  tales  of  all  the  plan- 
ics  in  the  cideral  heavings  wouldn’t  make  one  for  a  fust 
rate  wild  comic !  Longer  than  the  magnetic  paragraph 
and  wider  than  Sebago  pond,  they  stretches  aout  over 
the  universal  kanerpy  in  the  unlimited  nugacity  of 
either,  now  sweepin’  down  among  the  elongate  con¬ 
cavities  of  diurnal  convexities  and  agin  sorein  upwards 
till  lost  in  the  grate  hyperion  ! 

Jemes  was  so  used  up  by  this  peoration  that  he  had 
to  be  carried  home  on  a  cheer.  This  morning,  how¬ 
ever,  he  was  as  well  as  could  be  expected,  and  ef  con¬ 
valescence  don’t  set  in  he’ll  be  about  in  a  day  or  two. 


THE  RAG-PICKER’S  STORE. 


175 


66. 


THE  RAG  PICKER’S  STORY. 

New  York,  November  8,  1854. 

A  friend  gives  me  a  report  of  a  sceance ,  during 
which  occurred  the  following  manifestations  : — 

L.,  was  influenced  and,  in  the  tone  and  manner  of 
gentle  girlhood,  she  said  : — 

I’m  happy  now.  I  guess  I  am.  I’m  in  Heaven  I 
guess.  I  hain’t  got  any  bare  feet  any  more  neither. 
Ain’t  I  happy !  Nobody  scolds  me  any  more  neither. 
Ain’t  I  happy  !  Guess  I  am.  I  wish  I  could  And 
mother  tho’.  I  tell  you  what — these  cold  stones  ain’t 
agoing  to  hurt  my  feet  any  more,  are  they  ? 

I  heard  the  doctor  say  when  I  was  dying,  “  The  poor 
little  wretch  is  dying.”  What  did  he  call  me  wretch 
for? 

I  used  to  go  round  the  streets  in  hot  weather  and 
cold  weather  getting  pieces  of  bread  and  picking  up 
rags.  I  used  to  be  sorrowful  and  hungry  sometimes. 
I  used  to  hook  an  apple  when  I  could  find  one  and 
couldn’t  get  any  thing  else.  I  used  to  tell  God  to  look 
another  way.  At  that  time  I  had  been  told  God  was 
looking  at  me. 

I  was  took  sick.  But  say !  What’s  the  reason  you 
don’t  tell  me  to  go  away?  You  let  me  come  in  and 


176 


MEMORANDA 


don’t  say  go  away  !  Oh!  I  know.  You  can’t  see  me  and 
I’ve  got  the  better  of  you.  I  feel  kind  ashamed  to  talk 
before  you,  but  1  feel  so  kind,  so  happy,  I  can’t  help  it. 

Mother  cried  a  peck  when  I  died,  I  know.  I  guess 
baby  will  miss  me  tho’,  won’t  she '$  I  went  home  after 
picking  up  rags  and  felt  kind-o-bad  all  over.  Mother 
said  I’d  got  cold  ;  and  every  day  when  I  come  home  my 
legs  grew  stiffer  and  stiffer  and  would  ache  dreadful  bad. 

I  wanted  to  go  out  one  morning  ’cause  I’d  promised 
some  girls  we’d  go  round  the  streets  down  town  and 
have  a  good  pick,  for  a  fellow  had  been  moving  and 
thrown  his  dirt  in  the  street.  I  couldn’t  go,  I  felt  so 
bad. 

Mother  used  to  take  the  rags,  wash  ’em  out,  dry  ’em, 
and  sell  ’em.  She  couldn’t  go  a  picking,  for  she  had  a 
baby.  I  thought  the  baby  might  as  well  know  how  to 
pick  rags  as  I,  and  I  used  to  give  it  the  poker  and  teach 
it  how.  It  thought  it  fine  fun.  It  was  black  too — had 
black  hair  and  eyes,  but  I  had  light.  Why  was  this  ? 

Well!  I  got  kind-o-sick  and  the  baby  used  to  take 
me  for  rags  and  poke  me.  I  guess  she  warn’t  far  from 
right  to  look  at  my  petticoats.  I  lay  there  in  the  cor¬ 
ner.  The  rats  used  to  make  such  a  noise  I  couldn’t 
sleep  and  I  wanted  to  poke  them. 

[Hear  she  was  speaking  too  fast  for  me  to  write,  and 
I  said,  “  wait  a  minute.”  She  said,  “  I  guess  you’re 
waiting  to  cross  Broadway.”] 

She  then  resumed : — 

As  I  was  laying  one  night  in  the  corner — dreadful 
sick,  I  tell  you  my  head  ached  like  fun,  I  heard  a  kind- 
o-noise  and  thought  it  was  the  nasty  rats.  I  looked  round 
and  seen,  oh  !  the  prettiest  thing  right  above  me  !  It 


THE  RAG-PICKER  S  STORY. 


177 


was  a  woman,  so  smiling  and  pretty?  Oh,  warn’t  she 
pretty !  She  looked  so  white  and  clean  and  there 
was  no  rags  about  her.  And  when  she  looked  at  me, 
her  eyes  were  like  two  stars.  It  made  me  feel  comfort¬ 
able  all  over,  and  says  I — “  Where  did  you  corns 
from  ?”  She  says  :  “  Mag,  dear  child  !  I’ve  come  for 
you  to  go  home  with  me.”  “  Oh,  dear !”  says  I,  “  I 
don’t  look  nice  enough.”  She  kissed  me  and  told  me 
never  mind  my  clothes,  God  didn’t  mind  if  man  did. 
She  said  she’d  take  me  where  I’d  be  real  happy.  I 
asked  her  if  she  knowed  me?  She  said,  Oh  yes!  she’d 
been  with  me  ever  since  I  was  a  little  bit  of  a  baby. 
Warn’t  she  good !  I  told  mother  of  it  and  I  heard  her 
tell  some  of  the  neighbors,  I  was  out  of  ray  head,  and 
she  said  I  was  going  to  die.  She  cried  awful  hard  and 
I  did  die,  and  found  myself  right  in  the  arms  of  that 
lady,  and  she  says  now  I  can  come  round  the  baby  and 
mother  and  make  mother  better  and  happy  and  take 
care  of  baby  better  than  I  used  to. 

Where  I  is,  is  all  a  beautiful  place.  Tain’t  no  cold 
where  I  am.  I  don’t  shiver  nor  hungry  now.  ’Cept,  I 
want  to  see  mother  sometimes.  And  then  I  can  go  and 
see  her,  and  that  lady’s  spirit  round  me  says  as  how 
there  is  around  a  great  many  ragged  children  just  such 
pretty  faces  as  hers. 

I  asked  her  one  time,  who  she  was  ?  and  she  says  she 
once  lived  in  our  land  and  had  a  little  baby  and  she 
loved  that  baby  better  than  her  Heavenly  Father,  she 
fears,  and  lie  took  her  baby  home  to  Him.  She  felt 
very  lonesome.  She  grew  older  and  she  went  home. 
And  they  told  her,  before  her  baby  could  be  always  with 
her,  she  must  go  to  earth  and  take  care  of  some  little 


178 


MEMORANDA. 


cliild,  and  so  she  had  picked  me  out  ’cause  she’d  seen  I 
was  like  her  baby.  She  seen  my  mother  had  so  many, 
she  didn’t  care  particular  about  me.  And  now,  she 
says,  she’ll  go  where  her  little  child  is,  and  I’ll  be  lone¬ 
some!  Won’t  I?  She  says,  if  I’ll  be  good,  I’ll  come 
where  she  is  and  be  her  child  with  the  other  one. 

She  says,  God  ain’t  a  great  big  angry  man.  but  he 
loves  every  little  child,  if  she  is  dirty  and  ragged,  and  if 
I’ll  only  be  good,  I'll  always  be  happy.  She  says  God 
is  all  love.  Well!  I  guess  I’ll  turn  it  the  other  way, 
Love  is  all  God.  I’ll  remember  it  better  that  way. 

When  I  come  here  to  night,  I  thought  I  was  going  to 
mother.  How  she  says  I  may  go  to  mother.  If  you  ain’t 
ashamed  of  me  I’ll  come  again. 

[Here  the  communication  seemed  to  cease,  but  L.  re¬ 
mained  under  the  influence.  What  had  been  said  thus  far, 
had  been  said  continuously  by  her,  without  interruption. 
How  Mr.  A.  and  Mrs.  S,  became  influenced,  and  through 
the  three  mediums  the  following  dialogue  occurred :] 

Mr.  A.  described  her  appearance— “  She  had  on  a 
check  petticoat.” 

L.  “  Why  !  Tou  can  see  me  can’t  you  ?” 

Mr.  A.  “  Her  petticoat  was  two  or  three  inches  longer 
than  her  frock — ” 

L.  “  So  it  was.  The  frock  was  given  me  but  the  petti¬ 
coat  was  one  of  mother’s.  They  used  to  say  I  stole—  ” 

I  asked.  “  Did  you  ?” 

L.  “  I  did.  I  used  to  hook  once  in  a  while.  What 
are  you  going  to  do,  if  you  are  hungry  and  see  lots  of 
things  not  eaten  up  ?” 

In  answer  to  some  questions,  she  said  she  was  about 
ten  years  old,  and  lived  in  Centre  Street,  near  Pearl. 


THE  KAG-riCKER’s  STORY 


179 


I  asked  her  mother’s  name  ? 

L.  “  Let  that  lady  tell.” 

Mrs.  S.  “  Her  name  was  Katrina  Moeglar.  Her 
father  used  to  get  drunk,  and  once  a  big  fellow  came 
and  took  him  away” — 

L.  “  And  I  never  seen  him  since.” 

Mrs.  S.  then  had  a  vision  of  her  mother’s  residence 
and  described  it,  and,  as  she  described,  the  child  recog¬ 
nized  it  and  added  some  particulars.  It  was  a  single 
room  in  a  cellar.  It  had  a  few  chairs,  a  broken  table,  lots 
of  rags,  some  shavings,  a  piece  of  broken  looking-glass — 

L.  “  That  I  stole,  and  used  to  look  at  myself  in  it.  I 
wonder  you  can  go  down  there,  it  is  so  dirty.  Do  you 
see  mother  ?” 

Mrs.  S.  “  I  see  there  a  pale-looking  woman — some 
one  says  she  has  the  consumption.” 

L.  “  Do  yon  see  the  baby  ?” 

Mrs.  S.  “  Yes,  dear  little  thing !  It  is  lying  on  some 
rags.” 

L.  “  Has  it  grown  ?” 

Mrs.  S.  “  It  would  he  a  pretty  child  if  taken  care  of. 
I  see  a  gray  cat  there.” 

L.  “  That  was  my  pussy,  I  hope  they  give  it  enough 
to  eat.” 

Mrs.  S.  “  I  see  somebody  else  there — ” 

L.  “  It  is  one  of  mother’s  boarders.” 

Mrs.  S.  “  She  is  an  old  woman  and  looks  wretched. 
She  has  a  basket  filled  with  paper  and  rags.” 

L.  “  And  a  flat  nose.  It’s  old  auntv  She  used  to 
lick  me  like  every  thing.” 

Mrs.  S.  “  I  see  a  boy  there — ” 

L.  “  It's  her  son  Peter.” 


180 


MEMORANDA. 


Mrs.  S.  “  I  see  a  man  there,  a  horrid  looking  man.” 

L.  “  Is  he  there  yet  ?  It’s  old  aunty’s  husband.  He 
hired  one  corner  of  the  room.” 

Mrs.  S.  “  Your  mother  won’t  live  long — ” 

L.  “  Won’t  she?  What’ll  be  done  with  the  baby?” 

Mrs.  S.  “  She  coughs  now  and  spits  blood.” 

L.  “  This  lady  says  I  can  then  take  mother  in  my 
arms.  But  what  will  they  do  with  the  baby  ?” 

Mrs.  S.  “  It  will  be  taken  care  of.” 

L.  “  Who’ll  do  it  ?” 

Mrs.  S.  ‘‘A  kind  lady  who  belongs  to  a  society — ” 

L.  “  Has  she  come  again  ?” 

Mrs.  S.  “Yes  she  takes  care  of  your  mother  and 
sends  her  food.  Your  mother  is  not  able  to  work  now. 
She  used  to  wash  for  the  poor  people  around  her  and 
get  two  shillings  a  day,  and  since  her  strength  failed 
her,  her  only  means  of  living  have  been  to  let  a  part  of 
her  miserable  room  to  lodgers,  and  a  kind  lady  helps 
her  as  much  as  she  is  able  to.” 

L.  “Say,  Misses,  do  you  see  the  street  that  runs 
down  near  the  house  ;  it’s  awfully  crooked — cow  tracks, 
the  boys  called  it.” 

Mrs.  S.  “  The  spirit  here  tells  me  to  tell  you,  little 
child,  your  mother  will  soon  be  with  you.” 

L.  “  Ain’t  I  happy !” 

[It  is  impossible  to  convey  an  adequate  idea  of  the 
tone  in  which  this  was  said.  It  was  full  of  deep  emotion 
and  subdued  joy.  It  was  inexpressibly  touching.] 

Mrs.  S.  “  Your  father  here  to  night  is  crying  bitter 
tears  of  repentance  and  shame.” 

L.  “  Will,  he  let  me  speak  to  him  ?  I  ain’t  afraid  of 
him  now  ” 


THE  RAO-PICKEr’s  STORY. 


181 


Mrs.  S.  “He  is  not  permitted  yet.” 

L.  “  Why  not  ?” 

Mrs.  S.  “  He  is  not  able  to  answer  you,  my  child. ” 

L.  “  Has  he  lost  his  tongue  ?  He  used  to  have  one 
long  enough  and  talk  loud  enough.” 

Mrs.  S.  u  Be  patient  my  child.  You’ll  meet  again.” 

L.  “  Say,  will  mother  be  with  me,  then  ?” 

Mrs.  S.  “  Yes.” 

L.  “  O  dear !  I  m  glad  of  that.” 

[Here  the  influence  seemed  to  be  withdrawn,  and  the 
interview  to  end.  But  the  spirit  that  attended  the  child 
then  spoke  to  us :] 

She  said  that  she  had  as  yet  seen  her  own  child  but 
once  since  her  entrance,  several  years  since,  into  the 
spirit  world.  The  reason  was  that  her  love  for  it  was  a 
selfish  love.  She  had  lived  a  common,  ordinary  life  on 
earth,  caring  little  for  the  future  ;  and  on  her  entrance 
there  she  found  that  she  must  return  to  earth  and  finish 
the  task  she  had  neglected  while  living  here,  by  taking 
into  her  care  some  child,  whom  she  could  guide  and  pro¬ 
tect  until  she  should  remove  from  her  love  all  its  earthly 
taint.  Her  task  was  now  nearly  performed.  The 
child  she  had  selected  was  now  very  dear  to  her,  to¬ 
gether  they  would  progress,  and  soon  she  would  again  be 
united  to  her  dearly  loved  child,  and  they  tb'.eo  Vif^ther 
advance  onwar  1  toward  their  high  destinj 


182 


MEMORANDA. 


66. 


IMPROVEMENT  IN  THE  QUALITY  OP  COMMUNICATIONS. 

Auburn,  N.  Y.,  January  II,  1855. 

Perhaps  some  good  may  result  from  a  few  notes  in 
regard  to  my  daily  paths.  O,  if  I  could  only  paint  the 
changing  scenes  and  pleasant  places  through  which  I 

pass  in  this  teaching  excursion . But  the 

spirit  of  description  is  not  upon  me  this  morning.  The 
incidents  of  my  journey  are  interesting  to  me,  but  I 

have  not  the  assurance  that - could  see  in  them  a 

similar  fascination . Since  my  departure 

from  Hartford,  I  have  addressed  thousands  of  my  fel¬ 
low-men . Although  I  have,  ere  this,  visited 

several  of  the  localities,  yet  now  my  spirit  beholds 
them  as  fairer  than  before.  They  are  like  familiar 
forms  clad  in  new  garments  of  brighter  texture, 
perhaps,  because  a  marked  change,  an  internal  im¬ 
provement  has  occurred  in  the  people  since  1853.  Then 
I  found  every  audience  alive  only  in  the  direction  of 
Miracle  and  Mystery.  Now,  I  find  more  solidity  of 
thought,  and  more  attraction  manifested  toward  the 
truly  philosophic  departments  of  Harmonial  Reform. 
.  .  .  .  In  1852-3,  my  observations  led  me  to  state 

publicly  that  only  40  per  cent,  of  the  occurring  phe¬ 
nomena  were  traceable  to  spiritual  causes.  Now  I  can 


QUALITY  OF  COMMUNICATIONS. 


183 


affirm  truthfully  that  fully  70  per  cent,  is  a  legitimate 
emanation  from  the  higher  sphere  of  human  existence. 
.  .  .  .  Another  fact  is  remarkable.  The  character 

of  the  correspondence  between  the  two  worlds  has  been 
steadily  progressing  in  purity  and  wisdom.  True,  here 
and  there  I  encounter  a  medium,  who,  by  organization, 
invites  ordinary  manifestation.  But  this  class  is  rapidly 
finding  its  healthy  limitations. 

Many  experiences  on  my  trip  are  of  too  interior  a 
nature  to  admit  of  hasty  description  ;  therefore,  as  I 
write  these  notes  in  haste,  they  must  for  the  present  re¬ 
main  untold . Occasionally,  while  discours¬ 

ing,  my  perceptions  are  far  beyond  my  audience.  New 
views  open  before  me,  brighter  and  grander  than  when 
surrounded  by  witnesses  in  days  of  yore.  Spiritual 
“  new  births  ”  in  the  hearts  of  persons  occur  in  all 
directions.  I  have  seen  many  a  crucified  Reason  re¬ 
surrected,  and  the  heart  of  an  auditor  suddenly  awak¬ 
ened  to  newness  of  life,  inspired  with  noble  resolutions 
in  favor  of  human  redemption  from  discord,  and  in 
favor  yet  more  of  the  unconditional  emancipation  of 
slaves  in  all  climes  and  under  all  circumstances.  In 
the  light  of  Harmonial  Gospel  I  now  and  then  behold 
the  things  and  dwellers  of  earth  touched  with  a  heav¬ 
enly  radiance,  as  the  “  morning  dawn  streams  over  the 
horizon  of  hope,”  and  as  the  promises  of  eternal  pro¬ 
gression  come  to  my  soul,  indorsed  unmistakably  by 

Nature’s  every  principle . Steadily  my 

spirit  is  approaching  the  westward  localities.  But  1 
fear  my  time  is  too  limited  to  visit  them  all.  The  south¬ 
ern  tier  of  towns  in  the  State  of  New  York  I  must  pass 
entirely  by,  in  consequence  of  engagements  in  cities. 


184- 


memoranda. 


.  .  .  .  Rev.  J.  H.  Fowler  is  on  tlie  same  jath  with 
me.  He  is  a  graduate  of  Cambridge,  was  a  clergyman 
for  a  few  years,  but  is  now  in  the  field  of  the  New  Dis¬ 
pensation.  Of  course  he  is  preaching  Reform.  .  „ 


67. 

ORTHODOX  OPPOSITION  TO  REFORM  IN  THE  MARRIAGE 
RELATION. 

Brooklyn,  August  24,  1855. 

This  forenoon  was  spent  in  writing  and  meditation. 
.  .  .  .  Returning  from  the  customary  afternoon 

trip  to  New  York,  the  mail-carrier  met  me  at  the  door, 
and  delivered  into  my  hand  a  copy  of  the  N.  Y.  Inde¬ 
pendent ,  edited  by  Henry  Ward  Beecher,  containing 
the  following  not  remarkable  specimen  of  Dr.  George 
B.  Cheever's  Christian  fairness  and  liberality  : — 

“  ‘  The  Great  Harmonia.’ — Somebody  has  sent  us  volume 
four  of  a  series  issued  by  that  impudent  pretender,  Andrew  Jack- 
son  Davis.  The  course  of  our  duty  has  compelled  ns  to  form 
some  acquaintance  with  many  bad  books,  but  with  none  more  de¬ 
destable  than  this.” 

Yet  Henry  Ward  Beecher  himself  is  believed,  by  the 
majority  of  “Christian  clergymen”  to  be  a  dangerous 
man,  and  his  paper  of  course  is  considered  a  “  danger¬ 
ous  ”  sheet . Only  a  few  days  ago.  very  soon 

after  the  publication  of  this  Fourth  volume,  I  chanced 
to  take  up  an  influential  weekly  journal,  containing  a 
somewhat  different  notice  by  the  Editor  thus  : — 


ORTHODOX  OPPOSITION'. 


185 


“We  would  earnestly  call  attention  to  tlie  fourth  rolume  of 
the  ‘Great  Harmonia,’  by  A.  J.  Davis,  recently  published. 
Perhaps  there  are  some  of  our  readers  who  have  not  read  it ; 
and  our  appeal  is  to  them,  that  they  do  so  at  once.  It  contains 
suggestions  of  wisdom  that  should  be  appropriated  by  every 
lover  of  his  kind.  Says  the  author  upon  the  title-page — ‘  Abso¬ 
lute  purity  of  heart  and  life  is  the  richest  human  possession  ; 
and  perfect  obedience  to  the  highest  attractions  of  the  soul  is 
the  only  means  of  its  attainment.’  This  is  a  key  to  the  work. 
Oh,  that  this  comprehensive  treatise  upon  physiological  vices  and 
virtues  could  be  universally  read  and  digested  by  the  youth  of 
our  land.  The  trne  field  of  the  Reformer  is  this.  Scatter  the 
seed  among  the  youth ,  where  it  will  surely  find  a  genial  soil,  and 
germinate  to  profit.” 

And  in  another  paper,  only  yesterday,  I  noticed  this 
appeal : — 

“  Reader,  have  you  read  this  excellent  book  ?  If  not,  do  not 
delay  procuring  it  and  reading  it  carefully,  deliberately,  repeat¬ 
edly,  especially  if  you  have  or  belong  to  a  family.  You  will  find 
the  price  of  it  one  of  the  best  expenditures  you  ever  made.  Do 
not  lose  time  by  pleading  poverty  or  want  of  money;  do  without 
tobacco,  tea,  coffee,  meat,  or  even  bread  for  the  body,  until  you 
secure  this  bread  for  the  soul.  It  is  the  best,  because  it  is  the 
most  practical  of  that  excellent  author’s  works;  it  teaches  the 
true  theory  of  life — especially  of  conjugal  and  parental  life. 
Every  family  who  lias  a  copy  of  the  Bible,  should  have  a  copy 
of  this  book  by  its  side,  and  read  it  as  often,  until  the  best  teach¬ 
ing  of  the  Bible,  or  Christianity,  has  become  practical,  and  im¬ 
proved  upon  by  a  living  reform.” 

On  the  other  hand,  by  way  of  variety  to  spice  up 
public  thought,  the  evangelical  editor  of  the  Hartford 
Cowant  says: — 

“  This  fourth  volume  of  the  gospel  according  to  Andrew  Jack- 
son  Davis,  contains  the  physiological  vices  and  virtues,  and  the 


186 


MEMORANDA. 


seven  phases  of  marriage.  We  think  it  one  of  the  worst  booki 
ever  published ;  calculated,  if  followed  up,  to  overthrow  all  that 
the  laws  and  the  gospel  of  Christ  have  ordained  concerning  the 
sacredness  of  marriage.” 


68. 


AN  ORTHODOX  EDITOR  ON  THE  ORIGIN  OF  FREE  LOVE. 

Hartford,  October  25,  1855. 

The  respectable  orthodox  editor  of  the  respectable 
Hartford  Courant  appears  this  morning  in  the  follow¬ 
ing  atrocious  love  story  : — 

One  of  the  consequences  of  the  “  Gospel  according  to  Andrew 
Jackson  Davis  ”  is  the  introduction  of  the  new,  sensual,  abomin¬ 
able  doctrine  of  Free  Love.  It  would  break  up  all  the  benefits 
which  God  ordained  should  arise  from  the  family  circle  to  child¬ 
ren  in  their  education  in  purity  and  usefulness,  and  to  the 
domestic  happiness  of  man.  It  would  make  society  one  complete 
brothel,  and  all  men  and  women  its  unprincipled  inmates.  It  is 
time  that  men  who  value  the  purity  of  the  domestic  home,  the 
chastity  of  uncontaminated  woman,  and  the  preservation  of  the 
next  generation  in  virtue,  should  lift  up  their  voices  against  this 
most  abominable  doctrine.  The  following  is  but  one  of  many  of 
the  instances  of  this  fatal  doctrine — catering  to  the  very  lowest 
and  worst  passions  of  human  nature :  “  A  lady  residing  in  Ainslie 
street,  Williamsburg,  appeared  before  Colonel  Ming,  at  the 
Mayor’s  office,  yesterday  morning,  and  entered  a  complaint  that 
her  husband  for  a  year  past  has  been  a  member  of  a  spiritual 
circle  which  meets  at  193  Bowery;  and  he  says  that  he  has  re¬ 
ceived  a  communication  informing  him  that  it  was  just  and 
proper  that  he  should  form  new  associations  with  females  when¬ 
ever  he  saw  fit,  and  with  as  many  different  ones  as  his  spirit 
might  move  him  to.  He  also  endeavors  to  persuado  her  to  re¬ 
ceive  the  visits  of  different  men,  assuring  her  that  there  is  no 


EDITOR  IN  TIIE  BALANCE. 


1S7 


harm  in  her  doing  so,  notwithstanding  she  has  two  children  by 
him.”  So  much  for  departing  from  the  faith  of  the  gospel  of 
Christ  and  going  astray  after  the  delusions  and  errors  of  Spir¬ 
itualism  !  “  By  its  fruits  ye  shall  know  it.”  If  it  has  any 

origin  beyond  that  of  living  humbuggery,  it  is  that  of  the  In¬ 
fernal  Regions! 


69. 


“JUSTITIA”  WEIGHS  THE  “COURANT”  EDITOR  IN  THE 
BALANCE. 

Hartford,  October  27,  1855. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Courant : — 

An  article  in  your  paper  of  the  25th,  under  the 
above  title,  is  calculated  to  do  great  injustice  from  its 
misstatements,  unintentional,  no  doubt,  and  which  you 
will  gladly  see  corrected.  You  associate  with  what 
the  public  have  chosen  to  call  Free  Love,  the  name  of 
Andrew  Jackson  Davis,  and  the  body  of  the  believers 
in  Spiritualism,  making  the  Spiritualists  responsible 
for  the  opinions  of  Mr.  Davis,  and  asserting  that  Mr. 
Davis  was  the  introducer  of  the  doctrine  of  Free  Love. 
Both  these  statements  are  entirely  incorrect.  Mr.  Davis 
did  not  introduce  the  doctrine  of  Free  Love.  It  had 
been  advocated  in  various  forms  before  he  ever  uttered 
a  word  to  the  public.  I  do  not  know  that  he  even  ac¬ 
cepts  it.  But  I  do  know  that  he  did  not  originate  it; 
that  it  was  taught  long  ago,  and  is  still,  by  those  having 
no  connection  whatever  with  him.  But  for  his  views 
on  this  or  any  other  matter,  Spiritualists  are  not  re- 


188 


MEMORANDA. 


sponsible.  Spiritualism  did  not  originate  with  Mr. 
Davis,  nor  does  it  indorse  his  opinions.  His  “  Revela* 
tions,”  so-called,  were  published  before  Spiritualism 
was  heard  of,  and  never  claimed  to  have  been  dictated 
by  spirits,  but  to  have  been  uttered  by  him  in  a  state 
of  trance.  As  a  believer  in  Spiritualism,  which  he 
subsequently  became,  he  is  but  one  of  hundreds  of 
thousands,  many  of  whom  have  no  sympathy  with,  or 
even  knowledge  of,  his  opinions.  He  is  not  in  any 
measure  the  founder  of  the  faith,  nor  of  the  body  ac¬ 
cepting  it. 

As  to  the  relation  of  Spiritualists  to  Free  Love,  it  is  to 
be  said,  first,  that  the  doctrine,  so-called,  did  not  originate 
with  them.  The  Socialists,  before  them,  were  charged 
with  it,  and  with  equal  injustice.  Second,  the  Spir¬ 
itualists  have  never  indorsed  the  doctrine.  The  story 
which  you  quote,  if  true,  only  shows  how  a  sensual 
man  may  abuse  Spiritualism  to  promote  his  sensual 
ends,  even  as  others  have  actually  perverted  the  Chris¬ 
tian  Scriptures  for  the  same  purpose.  But  it  is  an  old, 
and  still  a  true  saying,  that  the  abuse  of  a  thing  is  no 
argument  against  its  use.  Third,  the  avowal  of  this 
doctrine  has  not  been  peculiar  to  Spiritualists.  The 
club  in  New  York  City,  about  which  there  has  been  so 
much  excitement,  was  not  made  up  of  Spiritualists. 
Indeed,  no  evidence  has  been  furnished  that  any  con¬ 
siderable  portion  of  it  consisted  of  this  class.  And 
lastly,  the  doctrine  numbers  very  few  advocates  amoDg 
the  Spiritualists.  They  are  an  insignificant  minority, 
numerically  speaking,  some  few  score,  perhaps,  among 
hundreds  of  thousands ;  while  among  the  majority  op¬ 
posed  to  the  doctrine,  there  have  be  m  frequent  con- 


ABIGAIL  MOSES. 


189 


demnations  of  its  tendencies,  and  that  long  before  any 
of  the  public  prints  thought  fit  to  stir  in  the  matter. 

It  is  quite  time  that  the  public  were  candid  enough 
to  recognize  what  lias  been  often  asserted  by  the  Spir¬ 
itualists  themselves,  viz:  that  they  have  but  one  article 
of  faith,  in  which  they  all  unite,  and  for  which  they, 
as  a  whole,  are  responsible,  which  is,  “  that  spirits  can 
and  do  communicate  with  man,”  and  that  for  all  abuses 
of  this  doctrine,  and  for  all  other  opinions  or  practices 
entertained  by  individuals,  individuals  only  are  to  be 
held  accountable. 

I  have  written  the  above,  Mr.  Editor,  not  as  an  in¬ 
dorser  of  Mr.  Davis,  or  a  believer  in  Spiritualism,  or 
an  advocate  of  Free  Love.  For  I  am  neither,  least  of 
all,  the  last ;  but  as  one  bound  to  obey  Christ’s  injunc¬ 
tion  to  “  judge  righteous  judgment.”  I  hold  it  neither 
just  nor  right  to  make  a  body  of  individuals,  among 
whom  are  to  be  found,  as  I  know,  some  of  the  purest 
minds,  responsible  for  the  vagaries  or  the  vices  which 
a  few  of  their  number,  in  common  with  many  more 
not  of  their  number,  may  display ;  especially  when 
such  responsibility  has  been  repeatedly,  in  private  and 
in  public,  repudiated. 

Justitla. 


70- 


ABIQAIL  MOSES,  A  TYPE  OP  THE  FREE  LOVERS. 

Brooklyn,  December  6,  1855 

It  is  said  that  a  certain  clique  of  New  Yorkers,  mostly 
socialists  and  retired  literati ,  have  organized  a  kind  of 


190 


MEMORANDA. 


private  Drawing-room  Association  for  the  purpose  of 
of  discussing  freely  questions  not  elsewhere  admissi¬ 
ble  ....  It  is  also  reported  that  the  majority  of 
these  persons  are  Spiritualists  ....  Whether  this  is 
true,  or  not,  I  do  not  know,  for  I  have  only  to-day  heard 
any  thing  definite  concerning  the  Society.  I  have  just 
read,  with  considerable  amusement,  the  following 

Letter  from,  Abigail  Moses  to  the  Mew  York  Evening 

Post ,  Explanatory  of  how  she  found  out  what  her 

“  Innard  Natur  ’  ”  required. 

I  raily  haint  a  minit  of  time,  dear  neighbor,  Mrs. 
Baldwin,  to  devote  to  nobody,  but  I  do  recon  I’d  better 
jest  let  you  know  somethin’  about  this  here  society  of 
assoeiationers  I’m  contemplatin’  joinin’.  Afore  I  begin 
I’d  like  to  menshun  that  if  you’d  just  step  in  and  see  to 
husband’s  stockin’s  I’d  take  it  agreeable.  I  hadn’t  no 

time  to  mend  ’em,  for  Professor  K - h  had  such  a 

heap  to  tell  me  about  the  innard  development,  and  of 
his  spiritual  coalition  with  my  spiritual  witals,  that  I 
sat  a  good  bit  longer  than  I  meant  to,  with  him  ;  an’ 
somehow  or  other  he  ketched  a  hold  of  my  hand  an’ 
said  he  didn’t  know  when  he’d  been  so  monstrously 
drawed  to  any  body  afore.  He  hadn’t  nothin’  to  say 
agin  my  husband  ;  he  might  be  a  very  clever  person ; 
but  yet  he  felt  convinced  my  natur  was  sich  an  elevated 
one,  he  raily  believed  my  wants  hadn’t  never  been 
met. 

I  told  him  sure  enough  they  hadn’t,  but  I  reckoned 
the  reason  was,  we  were  too  poor  to  go  to  further  ex¬ 
pense,  buying  things.  But  I  did  confess,  if  there  was  a 
want  I  had,  it  was  for  a  new  parlor  carpet,  ourn  was  a 


ABIGAIL  MOSES. 


191 


gittin’  so  dreadful  shabby.  The  Professor  gin  me  an 
awful  nudge  then,  and  said  I  must  excuse  him,  if  ha 
didn’t  feel  disposed  for  joking  that  morning  ;  he  was  a 
sufferin’'  most  tremenjous  innard  tortures,  ’cause  he’d 
been  misunderstood  the  day  afore  by  a  person  who 
wasn’t  great  enough  to  comprehend  him.  Of  course  I 
let  on  I  understood  him,  and  pretended  I’d  been  jokin’, 
but  afterwards,  when  I  went  to  the  meetin’,  I  found  out 
all  about  what  it  meant ;  and  I’m  real  miserable,  neigh¬ 
bor  Baldwin,  to  think  I’ve  been  a  livin’  these  sixteen 
years  with  Hiram  Moses,  an’  lie’s  never  yet  compre¬ 
hended  what  my  natur’  required. 

I  know  my  hull  bein’  haint  called  into  play  ;  there's 
only  one  set  of  faculties  a  goin’,  an’  I  might  as  well  be 
a  livin’  mummy,  as  to  be  mated  with  such  a  noodle. 
Brother  B — e  ses  he’s  convinced  me  and  him  has  sich  a 
sympathy  for  one  another,  that  we  must  have  played 
together  when  we  was  children  in  some  other  state  of 
existence,  an’  though  I  don’t  remember  ever  bein’  in 
that  state,  yet  I  s’pose  it's  jest  so.  Brother  B — e  is  a  very 
spiritual  soul,  an’  is  jest  as  developed  as  he  can  be. 
Me  and  him  has  sich  good  times  together,  and  sich 
beautiful  attractions  to  one  another,  that  we  don’t  think 
no  more  of  kissin’  than  if  we  was  two  females.  He  sed 
1  needn’t  tell  Hiram,  though,  for  it  wasn’t  likely  he’d 
understand  how  our  spirits  met,  an’  he  was  one  of 
those  common-place  beins  who  might  go  and  kick  up  a 
rumpus  about  me  a  kissin’  another  woman’s  husband. 

I  do  declare  it’s  too  bad  to  be  forced  into  sich  a  posi¬ 
tion  as  I  am  with  Hiram  ;  but  Dr.  C — s  ses  that’s  just 
the  way  with  him  an’  his  wife ;  she  haint  no  under- 
standin’  of  the  ideal  beauty  of  sich  friendships,  and 


192 


MEMORANDA. 


don’t  begin  to  till  up  the  measure  of  his  soul’s  yearnin’ 
after  perfection.  Poor  fellow  !  he’s  so  often  cast  back 
upon  himself  that  it  is  enough  to  crush  his  too  sensitive 
natur’.  The  meetin’s  on  thursday  nihhts  is  all  the 
comfort  I  have.  There’s  been  Professor  K — h  an’  S — , 
Dr.  E — y,  an’  Mr.  H —  an’ Mr.  H— s,  that’s  all  situated 
just  in  the  same  uncomfortable  way  in  their  domestic 
relations,  besides  several  females  that’s  study  in’  medi¬ 
cine  and  ’natomy  so  hard  that  they  partake  quite  of  the 
natur’  of  skeletons.  Their  souls  is  developed  at  the 
expense  of  their  poor,  frail,  perishable  bodies. 

E —  B — -  don’t  think  no  more  of  dissectin’  dead 
bodies  than  she  would  of  cuttin’  up  a  roast  chicken.  I 
don’t  know  as  Pd  trust  her  to  treat  my  neuralogy,  but 
Hiram  might  just  as  well  employ  the  poor  thing  for  his 
rheumatiz  as  not.  She  looks  as  though  she  might 
handle  a  right  gripin’  case  pretty  severe.  But  the  best 
of  all  is  the  principles  we  purfess.  There  we  sit  the 
hull  evenin’  and  jest  discourse  about  the  poor  oppressed 
creatures  that  have  to  git  their  livin’  at  shovelin’  snow, 
handlin’  wood,  and  so  on.  It  would  raily  do  your 
marrow  bones  good  to  see  the  benevolence  and  charity 
that  prevails,  an’  how  they  remarks,  they  don’t  want 
no  body  to  do  nothin’  that  don’t  agree  with  ’em — an’ 
I’m  sure  mendin’  stockin’s  don’t  agree  with  me. 

An’  they  tell  sich  lovely  anecdotes  about  them  who  go 
on  an’  git  every  thing  done  as  cheap  as  they  can,  so  as 
to  cheat  folks,  an’  grind  down  the  poor.  And  then,  be¬ 
sides  all  this  active  goodness  an’  a  strugglin’  to  redeem 
their  feller  bein’s,  they  have  a  festival  about  onst  a  year, 
so  as  to  hear  the  remarks  of  them  as  comes  from  the 
furrin  cities — such  as  Boston  and  Philadelphia — con- 


ABIGAIL  MOSES. 


193 


earnin’  the  wickedness  of  people  in  not  payin’  their 
workmen  ;  an’  Brother  C —  often  draws  tears  from  the 
female  members  regardin’  the  tramplin’  down  of  their 
blessed  privileges.  lie’s  lovely,  an’  there  aint  one  of  us 
females,  ugly  or  otherwise,  but  what  lie’s  willin’  to 
embrace  in  gospel  love. 

I  do  hope,  neighbor  Baldwin,  that  I’m  as  virtuous  a 
person  as  there  is  in  the  world  ;  but  I  must  say,  I  can’t 
see  a  bit  of  harm  in  relievin’  my  full  sympathies  in  the 
buzzums  of  them  that  are  my  spiritual  partners — ’cause 
wat’s  the  body,  any  how?  ’Taint  no  more  than  a  wet 
blanket  throw’d  over  the  sperrit — a  squenchin’  the 
yearnin’  after  that  soul  communion  that  every  well- 

developed  person  feels.  Mr.  K -  says  ‘  I’m  a  great 

soul,’  and  that  sich  sentiments  has  inaugurated  me 
more  tangibly  into  liis  best  feelin’s  than  any  paltry 
takin’  on  of  what  the  world  calls  1  modesty.’  Ses  he  to 
me,  a  standin’  on  the  steps  t’other  night,  ‘Would  we 
was  in  the  blessed  Philanstery  !’  My  sperrit  whispered 
‘  Without  Hiram,’  tho  ;  an’  his’n  immediat  elyrespond- 
ed  in  an  audible  ‘  Yes.’  So  completely  do  we  meet  one 
another. 

We  have  been  readin’  Jacque  together.  I  recon  you 
wouldn’t  be  pleased  with  his  observations  on  this,  but 
it’s  the  very  epitome  of  morality  and  virtue,  we  think. 
I’m  come  to  the  end  of  my  sheet,  and  here’s  Hiram  just 
come  in — ugh  ?  My  soul  revolts  from  him.  But  I’m 
doomed  to  misery.  Pity  my  unfortunate  organization 
that  requires  sich  different  associations. 

Yourn, 


9 


Abigail  Moses. 


194 


MEMORANDA. 


P.  S. — I  send  you  some  verses  which  I’ve  bin  a  ritin 
to  try  to  settle  the  commotions  that’s  continually  ragin 
in  my  breast  when  I  think  of  my  contrary  attractions 

VERSES  BY  ABIGAIL  MOSES. 

I  aint  a  doin’  nothin  else, 

But  walking  paths  that’s  thorny, 

For  him  that  needs  iny  werry  soul 
Is  going  to  Californy. 

And  now  I’m  left  to  bear  the  brunt 
Of  life  with  Hiram  Moses ; 

He’s  just  as  different  from  me, 

As  poppies  is  from  roses. 

He  eats  and  drinks,  and  works  and  sleeps, 

An’  aint  a  bad  provider, 

But  nectar’s  all  the  same  to  him 
As  so  much  beer  and  cider. 

I  hate  this  way  of  doin’  life, 

In  sums  of  vulgar  fractions  ; 

My  spirit  yearns  for  sympathy, 

And  ‘  passional  attractions.’ 

My  spiral  natur’s  innard  self, 

Has  gone  and  bin  divided  ; 

Of  course  I  can’t  be  nothin’  else, 

But  innardly  lop-sided  ; 

I  keep  a  graspin’  after  things 
That’s  neither  here  nor  yonder, 

Just  like  a  goose  that’s  yoked  for  life 
To  him  that  aint  her  gander. 

I  know  we’ll  meet  in  sperrit  yet, 

But  some  how  human  natur’, 

Let’s  try  to  squelch  it  all  we  can, 

Develops  soon  or  later. 


THE  PROFESSORS  OF  HARVARD. 


195 


And  if  it’s  true,  1  All  flesh  is  grass,’ 
It’s  time  ole  Hiram  Moses 
Was  greenin’  in  the  pickle  now, 

For  that  Metempsychosis. 

He  haint  got  no  ideal  life, 

And  ‘  pivotal  revolvin’, 

He  don’t  begin  to  comprehend, 

Or  even  think  of  solvin’ ; 

I  sometimes  wish  my  views  of  things 
Was  all  confined  to  wittals, 

To  makin’  bread  and  pumpkin  pies, 
An’  scourin’  pots  and  kettles. 

And  then  I  shouldn’t  feel  so  bad, 
Because  I  ain’t  rewealin’, 

To  some  one  else’s  t’other  self, 

My  undeweloped  feelins ; 

I  wonder  when  the  time’ll  come, 

That  in  association, 

A  studyin’  of  the  beautiful, 

I’ll  follow  my  vocation. 


71. 


SPIRITUALISM  OVERTHROWN  BY  THE  PROFESSORS  OF 
HARVARD  UNIVERSITY. 

New  York,  July  10,  1857. 

The  Boston  controversy  respecting  “  Spiritualism,” 
growing  out  of  an  offer  of  $500  by  The  Courier  to  any 
one  who  could  exhibit  in  tlie  presence  and  to  the  satis¬ 
faction  of  certain  eminent  Professors  of  the  Natural 
Sciences,  in  Harvard  University,  any  such  marvelous, 


196 


MEMORANDA. 


phenomena  as  were  commonly  reported  by  Spiritualists 
as  having  transpired  in  the  presence  if  not  through  the 
agency  of  certain  persons  designated  “  mediums,”  has 
resulted,  after  a  week’s  investigation,  in  the  following 
award : — - 

“  The  Committee  award  that  Dr.  Gardner,  having  failed  to  pro¬ 
duce  before  them  an  agent  or  medium  who  4  communicated  a 
4  word  imparted  to  the  spirits  in  an  adjoining  room,’  4  who  read  a 
4  word  in  English  written  inside  a  book  or  folded  sheet  of  paper,’ 
who  answered  any  question  ‘which  the  superior  intelligence  must 
‘be  able  to  answer,’  4  who  tilted  a  piano  without  touching  it,  or 
4  caused  a  chair  to  move  a  foot;’  and  having  failed  to  exhibit 
to  the  Committee  any  phenomenon  which,  under  the  widest  lati¬ 
tude  of  interpretation,  could  be  regarded  as  equivalent  to  either 
of  these  proposed  tests,  or  any  phenomenon  which  required  for 
its  production,  or  in  any  manner  indicated  a  force  which  could 
technically  be  denominated  Spiritual,  or  which  was  hitherto  un¬ 
known  to  science,  or  a  phenomenon  of  which  the  cause  was  not 
palpable  to  the  Committee,  is,  therefore,  not  entitled  to  claim 
from  The  Boston  Courier  the  proposed  premium  of  $500. 

“It  is  the  opinion  of  the  Committee,  derived  from  observation 
that  any  connection  with  spiritualistic  circles,  so  called,  corrupts 
the  morals  and  degrades  the  intellect.  They  therefore  deem  it 
their  solemn  duty  to  warn  the  community  against  this  contami¬ 
nating  influence,  which  surely  tends  to  lessen  the  truth  of  man 
and  the  purity  of  woman. 

44  The  Committee  will  publish  a  report  of  their  proceedings,  to¬ 
gether  with  the  results  of  additional  investigations  and  other 
evidence,  independent  of  the  special  case  submitted  to  them,  but 
bearing  upon  the  subject  of  this  stupendous  delusion. 

“Benjamin  Pierce,  Chairman, 
“Ls.  Agassiz, 

44  B.  A.  Gould, 

44  E.  N.  IIORSFOLD. 


44  Cambridge,  June  29,  1857.” 


THE  BAPTIST  CHURCH. 


197 


It  is  most  important  to  history,  and  should  be  re¬ 
corded  in  full,  that  Dr.  Gardner  absolutely  and  une¬ 
quivocally  testifies  that  the  four  learned  gentlemen 
insisted  upon  rejecting  and  violating  all  the  laws  and 
conditions  by  which  spirits  can  influence  mediums  and 
demonstrate  their  presence  and  power. 

If  we  mistake  not,  a  similar  investigation  was  had 
and  a  similar  judgment  rendered  at  Paris  some 
seventy  odd  years  ago,  with  regard  to  the  alleged  phe¬ 
nomena  popularly  known  as  Mesmerism  or  Animal 
Magnetism. 

And  if  we  mistake  not,  a  similar  opinion  or  judg¬ 
ment  was  pronounced  by  certain  learned  Jewish 
Doctors,  some  eighteen  hundred  and  sixty  years  ago, 
with  regard  to  those  now  known  as  the  Founder  and 
First  Apostles  of  Christianity. 

We  wonder  if  the  Harvard  gentlemen  ever  heard  of 
the  Pope’s  bull  against  Galileo  and  the  revolving 
planets  I 


72. 


FATHER  ROBINSON  EXCOMMUNICATES  THE  BAPTIST 
CHURCH. 

Providence,  R.  I.,  August  10,  1 857. 

The  few  months  past,  like  all  the  months  of  the  pre¬ 
vious  two  years,  have  been  full  of  opposition.  The  ortho¬ 
dox  world  has  been  extremely  bitter  and  wicked.  .  .  . 
But  the  progressive  work  is  going  forward.  To-day’s 
mail  brings  a  telling  letter  from  Mary’s  Father  to  the 


198 


MEMORANDA. 


Orthodox  Church.  It  is  entitled  to  a  place  in  the 
history  of  this  war  : — 

Holley,  N.  Y.,  June  22,  1857. 

To  my  brethren  of  the  Second  Freewill  Baptist 
Church,  in  Clarendon  : — 

I  wish  you  to  give  me  a  letter  of  dismissal  from  your 
church,  for  the  following  reasons  : — 

1st.  I  would  not  say  to  you  that  “  Nature’s  Divine  Revela¬ 
tions,”  by  A.  J.  Davis,  or  the  “Harmouial  Philosophy,”  by  the 
same  author,  are  better  moral  guides  than  the  Bible,  or  a  truer  his¬ 
tory  of  the  “  Creation  but  I  do  say,  that  in  my  opinion,  whatever 
good  Orthodoxy  may  have  done  in  a  ruder  state  of  the  world,  it 
has  ceased  to  do  any  now.  Sectarianism  can  do  but  little  more 
good  if  it  ever  did  any.  The  churches  are  a  dead  weight  to  all 
reform  movements.  They  fought  the  Temperance  cause  till  it 
was  made  popular  by  the  “Infidel  ”  world.  Indeed,  they  never 
have  taken  hold  unitedly  in  it.  So  with  the  Anti-Slavery  cause 
and  other  reforms.  Church  members,  priests,  and  laymen,  are 
just  as  filthy — smoking,  chewing,  spitting,  perhaps  drinking  and 
lusting  after  “filthy  lucre  ”  if  not  the  flesh — as  other  men.  Many 
of  them  make  the  Bible  support  and  sustain  Slavery,  Polygamy, 
Intemperance,  Popery,  Protestantism,  and  all  Sectarianism. 

2d.  So  then  I  have  come  to  the  firm  conviction  that  the  world 
needs  now  a  new  race  of  Reformers — purer  and  holier  than  the 
Church  affords,  more  philanthropic,  loving,  and  harmonious,  less 
sensual  and  selfish,  requiring  less  money  than  it  takes  to  move  the 
sectarian  machinery.  A  new  Theology,  too,  more  consistent  and 
rational,  more  in  harmony  with  natural  laws  and  of  more  univer¬ 
sal  application  than  the  Orthodox — more  vital  religion,  with  less 
formality,  hypocrisy,  sanctity  and  fanaticism — more  honesty,  with 
less  craft  and  duplicity — drawn  and  held  together  by  fitness  and 
mutual  attractions  instead  of  creeds.  This  new  class  of  Re¬ 
formers  should  embrace  all  good  and  pure  men  and  women,  in 
and  out  of  the  Church. 


C.  Robin  30N. 


TOUCHING  STORY. 


199 


73. 

TOUCHING  STORY  OF  TWO  POOR  LITTLE  BOYS. 

Boston,  August  12,  1857. 

A  morning  paper  says  that  the  Hon.  A.  H.  Stephens, 
of  Georgia,  in  a  recent  address  at  a  meeting  in  Alexan¬ 
dria,  for  the  benefit  of  the  Orphan  Asylum  and  Free 
School  of  that  city,  related  the  following  anecdote : — 

“  A  poor  little  boy,  in  a  cold  niglit,  with  no  home  or  roof  to 
shelter  his  head,  no  paternal  or  maternal  guardian  or  guide  to 
protect  or  direct  him  on  his  way,  reached  at  nightfall  the  house 
of  a  wealthy  planter,  who  took  him  in,  fed  him,  and  sent  him  on 
his  way  with  his  blessing.  Those  kind  attentions  cheered  his 
heart,  and  mspired  him  with  fresh  courage  to  battle  with  the  ob¬ 
stacles  of  ife.  Years  rolled  round;  Providence  led  him  on,  and 
he  had  reached  the  legal  profession  ;  his  host  died  ;  the  cormo¬ 
rants  that  prey  on  the  substance  of  man  had  formed  a  conspiracy 
to  got  from  the  widow  her  estates.  She  sent  for  the  nearest  coun¬ 
sel,  to  commit  her  cause  to  him,  and  that  counsel  proved  to  be 
the  orphan  boy  long  before  welcomed  and  entertained  by  her  de¬ 
ceased  husband.  The  stimulant  of  warm  and  tenacious  gratitude 
was  now  added  to  the  ordinary  motive  connected  with  the  profes¬ 
sion.  He  undertook  her  cause  wdth  a  will  not  easily  to  be  resisted  ; 
he  gained  it;  the  widow’s  estates  w'ere  secured  to  her  in  perpetu¬ 
ity;  and  Mr.  Stephens  added,  with  an  emphasis  of  emotion  that 
sent  an  electric  thrill  throughout  the  house,  that  orphan  hoy  now 
stands  before  you." 

It  is  not  always  certain  that  every  “  poor  little  boy” 


200 


MEMORANDA. 


will  reach  the  same  goal ;  vet  each  should  strive  to  de 
serve  the  best  reward.  Not  long  since  we  met  a  para¬ 
graph  to  the  following  effect: — - 

“  I  once  knew  an  industrious  boy  whose  parents  were  poor,  but 
honest.  He  commenced  life  in  the  commercial  metropolis  with¬ 
out  a  cent ;  he  had  a  wart  on  his  nose,  and  a  sore  foot ;  but,  noth¬ 
ing  daunted,  he  worked  with  a  determination  and  will,  backed  by 
perseverance  and  energy,  and  nobly  fought  his  way  along,  sur¬ 
mounting  every  obstacle.  .  .  .  Mark  the  result:  Last  week  I  met 
him  for  the  first  time  in  ten  years,  and  that  little  boy  who  com¬ 
menced  life  only  ten  short  years  ago  without  a  cent,  hasn’t  got  a 
darned  cent  yet.” 


74. 

A  SCIENTIFIC  EXPLANATION  OF  THE  CAUSE  OF  VISION. 

Providence,  R.  I.,  August  17,  1857. 

The  learned  and  distinguished  Professor  Felton,  of 
Harvard  University,  has  just  appeared  in  the  editorial 
columns  of  the  Boston  Courier ,  as  follows: — 

“  Some  of  the  most  conspicuous  figures  in  the  drama  of  Spiritu¬ 
alism,  are  the  trance-mediums  or  speakers.  This  form  of  inspira¬ 
tion,  so  far  as  it  is  connected  with  the  present  state  of  things,  was 
first  introduced,  we  believe,  by  a  famous  Seer,  who  asserts  that  he 
can  read  the  London  Times  across  the  ocean  as  well  as  a  book  in 
his  hand.  For  aught  we  know,  it  may  be  true.  We  remember 
once  sitting  at  the  side  of  a  singular-looking  personage,  at  a  hotel 
table.  Our  attention  was  drawn  to  him  by  the  extraordinary 
speed  with  which  the  edibles  on  the  table  vanished  down  his  ca¬ 
pacious  throat.  The  raps  on  the  table  for  fresh  supplies  resem¬ 
bled  in  frequency  and  vehemence  those  which  are  heard  in  the 
best  constituted  spiritual  circles.  Soup,  beef,  mutton,  poultry, 
fish,  cabbage — in  short,  nearly  every  thing  on  the  bill  of  fare — 


NEW  ENGLAND  MOTHERS. 


201 


cume  and  were  seen  no  more.  We  were  filled — not  with  dinner, 
for  wonder  held  our  appetite  in  suspense — but  with  amazement. 
It  seemed  as  if  he  must  be  a  conjurer.  It  looked  like  the 
performances  of  Jack  the  Giant  Killer,  when  he  slyly  thrusts 
the  enormous  pudding  into  a  bag  under  his  waistcoat.  We 
do  not  usually  inquire  the  names  of  those  whom  we  chance  to 
meet  at  hotel  tables ;  but  there  was  something  so  miraculous  in 
this  gentleman’s  performances,  that  curiosity  gained  the  better  of 
reserve,  and  we  were  told  the  great  Devourer  was  Andrew  Jack- 
son  Davis.  This  explained  the  matter.  His  trances  were  now  to 
be  traced  to  their  true  cause.  They  are  the  trances  of  an  anaconda 
after  he  has  swallowed  an  ox,  horns,  hoof,  and  tail.  He  has  not 
only  his  own  earthly  organism  to  support,  but  the  spiritualistic 
organisms  of  the  innumerable  higher  intelligences.” 

I  hope  there  is  no  person  living  who  waifs  for  my 
positive  denial  before  rejecting  the  above  as  a  total  fab¬ 
rication.  ...  I  make  a  note  of  the  statement  to 
show  how  vulgar  a  falsehood  can  emanate  from  a  source 
high  in  the  estimation  of  literary  gentlemen  in  Boston. 
Verily,  prejudice  blunts  the  moral  sense,  and  makes 
intellect  an  ally  of  bigotry. 


75. 


THE  CONDITION  OF  NEW  ENGLAND  MOTHERS. 

Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  September  28,  1857. 

We  know  of  no  one  cause  more  responsible  for  what¬ 
ever  there  may  be  of  physical  degeneracy  among  the 
farming  population  (says  a  writer  in  the  Atlantic)  than 
the  treatment  of  its  child-bearing  women;  and  this 
after  all,  is  but  a  result  of  entire  devotion  to  the  tyran¬ 
ny 


202 


MEMORANDA. 


nical  idea  of  labor.  If  there  be  one  office  or  charactei 
higher  than  all  others,  it  is  the  office  or  character  of 
mother.  Surely  the  bringing  into  existence  so  mar¬ 
velous  a  thing  as  a  human  being,  and  the  training  of 
that  being  until  it  assumes  a  recognized  relation  to  God 
and  human  society,  is  a  sacred  office,  and  one  which 
does  not  yield  in  dignity  and  importance  to  any  otliei 
under  heaven.  For  a  woman  who  faithfully  fulfils  this 
office,  who  submits  without  murmuring  to  all  its  pains, 
who  patiently  performs  its  duties,  and  who  exhausts  her 
life  in  a  ceaseless  overflow  of  love  upon  those  whom 
God  has  given  her,  no  words  can  express  a  true  man’s 
veneration.  She  claims  the  homage  of  our  hearts,  the 
service  of  our  hands,  the  devotion  of  our  lives. 

Yet  what  is  the  position  of  them  other  in  the  New 
England  farmer’s  home  ?  The  farmer  is  careful  of  every 
animal  he  possesses.  The  farm-yard  and  the  stall  are 
replenished  with  young,  by  creatures  for  months  dis¬ 
missed  from  labor,  or  handled  with  intelligent  care  while 
carrying  their  burden  ;  because  the  farmer  knows  that 
only  in  this  way  can  he  secure  improvement,  and  sound, 
symmetrical  development,  to  the  stock  of  his  farm. 
In  this  he  is  a  true,  practical  philosopher.  But  what  is 
his  treatment  of  her  who  bears  his  children?  The 
same  physiological  laws  apply  to  her  that  apply  to  the 
brute.  Their  strict  observance  is  greatly  more  impera¬ 
tive,  because  of  her  finer  organization ;  yet  they  are 
not  thought  of ;  and  if  the  farm-yard  fail  to  shame  the 
nursery,  if  the  mother  bear  beautiful  and  well  organized 
children,  Heaven  be  thanked  for  a  merciful  interference 
with  the  operation  of  its  own  laws !  Is  the  mother 
in  the  farm-house  ever  regarded  as  a  sacred  being  ? 


JERKS  AMONG  PRESBYTERIANS. 


20! 


Look  at  her  hands  !  Look  at  her  face  !  Loo  at  her 
bent  and  clumsy  form !  Is  it  more  important  to  raise 
line  colts  than  line  men  and  women  ?  Is  human  life 
to  be  made  secondary  and  subordinate  to  animal  life  ? 
Is  not  she  who  should  receive  the  tenderest  and  most 
considerate  ministries  of  the  farmer’s  home,  in  all  its 
appointments  and  in  all  its  service,  made  the  ceaseless 
minister  and  servant  of  the  home  and  all  within  it,  with 
utter  disregard  of  her  office  ?  To  expect  a  population 
to  improve  greatly  under  this  method  is  simply  to  ex¬ 
pect  miracles ;  and  to  expect  a  farmer’s  life  and  a  farmer’s 
home  to  be  attractive  where  the  mother  is  a  drudge, 
and  secures  less  consideration  than  the  pets  of  the 
stall,  is  to  expect  impossibilties. 


76. 


JERKS  AMONG  PRESBYTERIANS,  METHODISTS,  BAPTISTS, 
EPISCOPALIANS,  QUAKERS,  AND  INDEPENDENTS. 

Detroit,  Mich.,  October  2,  1857. 

It  seems  that  the  different  popular  religious  sects, 
now  so  proud  and  so  respectable,  in  their  juvenile  days 
out-jerked  the  spiritual  mediums  by  considerable !  A 
correspondent  gives  a  description  of  these  singular 
manifestations  among  the  fashionable  Christians.  Most 
physicians  regard  these  twitchings,  swoonings,  trances, 
visions,  &c.,  as  a  nervous  affection,  produced  by  a  strong 
impression  upon  the  mind,  and  think  there  is  a  sympa¬ 
thetic  influence  making  them  contagious  to  some 


204 


MEMORANDA. 


extent.  The  facts  connected  with  their  appearance  are 
as  follows:— 

“Five  or  six  weeks  since,  during  a  protracted  meeting  held  by 
the  Methodists  at  Indian  Grove,  several  persons  were  seized  im¬ 
mediately  after  conversion,  with  what  are  called  the  jerks;  that 
is,  a  contraction  and  expansion  of  the  muscles  that  caused  the 
arms  to  move  suddenly  either  horizontally,  up  and  down,  or 
obliquely,  and  with  such  a  rapid  motion  that  it  convinced  every 
one  that  it  was  done  involuntarily. 

“  After  the  lapse  of  a  few  weeks,  a  similar  meeting  was  com¬ 
menced  at  Avoca,  and  with  similar  results.  Each  evening,  for 
several  evenings,  the  number  of  jerkers  increased,  until  it  is  sup¬ 
posed  that  there  were  as  many  as  fifty  seized  with  this  strange 
disease,  and  what  makes  it  seem  quite  singular  is,  each  one  dif¬ 
fered  from  another  in  jerking;  no  two  jerked  precisely  alike. 
One  was  seen  jumping  violently  with  both  feet — another  danc¬ 
ing — another  shaking  the  head — another  reeling  backward  and 
forward — another  still  from  side  to  side — some  jerked  both  hands 
and  feet,  and  others  performed  strange  convulsions  indescribable ; 
some  clapped  their  hands — one  laughed  heartily — another  made 
a  noise  similar  to  a  puppy,  and  yet  another  gave  forth  a  chuckle 
similar  to  demoniac.  The  dancing,  clapping  of  hands,  and  some 
other  motions,  were  called  forth  generally  only  as  the  shouting 
and  responding  became  boisterous. 

“All  this  was  witnessed  by  hundreds,  and  yet  not  one  who 
was  a  close  observer  will  declare  that  he  thinks  any  of  this 
feigned  or  within  the  power  of  the  victim  of  these  strange  phe¬ 
nomena  to  control.  Indeed,  persons  from  time  to  time  seized  the 
jerkers  by  the  arm  and  tried  to  prevent  it,  but  found  it  impos¬ 
sible.  Many  of  them,  at  home  or  abroad,  asleep  or  awake,  were 
in  motion.  None  of  them  seemed  at  all  insane — they  were  gen¬ 
erally  of  a  happy  frame  of  mind,  and  some  declared  they  were 
never  so  happy  as  when  jerking  hardest.  So  intensely  were 
some  of  them  exerted,  and  so  violent  the  action  of  their  limbs, 
that  when  in  meeting,  water  had  to  be  passed  constantly  to  them, 
while  the  perspiration  incessantly  rolled  down  their  c’jeeks.” 


JERKS  AMONG  i'EESBYTKRIANS. 


205 


Goodrich  (Peter  Parley),  in  his  interesting  “  Recol- 
lections  of  a  Lifetime,”  vol.  I.,  page  200,  &c.,  gives 
some  curious  items  concerning  the  jerks  which  pre¬ 
vailed  in  the  early  days  of  Methodism  in  Kentucky 
and  Tennessee,  at  the  beginning  of  the  present  cen¬ 
tury. 

“  At  the  religious  gatherings,”  says  he,  “  whether  in 
dwellings  and  churches,  or  in  the  open  woods  and  fields, 
persons  would  be  suddenly  taken  with  certain  irresist¬ 
ible  spasms,  inciting  them  to  the  most  strange  and 
extravagant  performances.  Some  would  bark  like  dogs, 
and  attempt  to  climb  the  ti’ees,  declaring  that  they 
were  treeing  the  devil.  Some  had  delicious  trances ; 
others  danced  as  if  beset  with  sudden  frenzy ;  others 
still  were  agitated  by  violent  and  revolting  convulsions 
and  twitchings,  which  obtained  the  popular  name  of 
jerks.  All  classes  of  persons  who  came  within  the 
atmosphere  of  the  mania,  Methodists,  Presbyterians, 
and  Quakers,  men  and  women,  became  subjects  of  these 
extraordinary  agitations.  I  recollect  to  have  heard  the 
late  Thomas  H.  Gallaudet  say  that,  when  a  young  man, 
he  visited  one  of  the  meetings  where  these  phenomena 
were  taking  place,  and  that  he  felt  within  himself  an 
almost  uncontrollable  temptation  to  imitate  some  of  the 
strange  antics  that  were  going  on  around  him.” 

Howe’s  Great  West  mentions  the  same  occurrence, 
stating  that  the  first  instances  occurred  at  a  sacrament 
in  East  Tennessee,  and  that  “  the  contagion  even  spread 
to  Ohio,  among  the  sober  people  of  the  Western  Re¬ 
serve.” 

The  celebrated  Lorenzo  Dow  has  an  interesting 
account  of  the  jerks  : — 


206 


MEMORANDA. 


“Sunday,  February  19,  I  spoke  in  Knoxville,  to  hundreds 
more  than  could  get  into  the  court-house — the  Governor  being 
present.  About  one  hundred  and  fifty  appeared  to  have  jerking 
exercise,  among  whom  was  a  circuit  preacher  (Johnson),  who 
had  opposed  them  a  little  before,  but  he  now  had  them  power¬ 
fully  ;  and  I  believe  he  would  have  fallen  over  three  times,  had 
not  the  auditory  been  so  crowded  that  he  could  not,  unless  he 
fell  perpendicularly. 

“After  meeting,  I  rode  eighteen  miles  to  hold  meeting  at  night. 
The  people  of  this  settlement  were  mostly  Quakers,  and  they  had 
said,  as  I  was  informed,  that  ‘the  Methodists  and  Presbyterians 
have  the  jerks  because  they  sing  and  pray  so  much  ;  but  we  are 
a  still,  peaceable  people,  wherefore  we  do  not  have  them ;’  how¬ 
ever,  about  twenty  of  them  came  to  meeting,  to  hear  one,  as  was 
said,  somewhat  in  a  Quaker  line.  But  their  usual  stillness  and 
silence  was  interrupted,  for  about  a  dozen  of  them  had  the  jerks 
as  keen  and  as  powerful  as  any  I  had  seen,  so  as  to  have  occa¬ 
sioned  a  kind  of  grunt  or  groan  when  they  would  jerk.  It  ap¬ 
pears  that  many  have  undervalued  the  Great  Revival,  and 
attempted  to  account  for  it  altogether  on  natural  principles ; 
therefore  it  seems  to  me,  from  the  best  judgment  I  can  form, 
that  God  hath  seen  proper  to  take  this  method  to  convince  peo¬ 
ple  that  he  will  work  in  a  way  to  show  his  power,  and  sent  the 
jerks  as  a  sign  of  the  times,  partly  in  judgment  for  the  people’s 
unbelief,  and  yet  as  a  mercy  to  convict  people  of  divine  realities. 

“I  have  seen  Presbyterians,  Methodists,  Quakers,  Baptists, 
Church  of  England,  and  Independents,  exercised  with  the  jerks. 
Gentleman  and  lady,  white  and  black,  the  aged  and  the  youth, 
rich  and  poor,  without  exception;  from  which  I  infer,  as  it  can 
not  be  accounted  for  on  natural  principles,  and  carries  such 
marks  of  involuntary  motion,  that  it  is  no  trifling  matter.  I  be¬ 
lieve  that  they  who  were  the  most  pious  and  given  up  to  God  are 
rarely  touched  with  it ;  and  also  those  naturalists,  who  wish  and 
try  to  get  it  to  philosophize  upon  it,  are  excepted ;  but  the  luke¬ 
warm,  lazy,  half-hearted,  indolent  professor  is  subject  to  it;  and 
many  of  them  I  have  seen,  who,  when  it  came  upon  them,  would 
be  alarmed,  and  stirred  up  to  redouble  their  diligence  with  God. 


JERKS  AMONG  PRESBYTERIAN'S. 


207 


and  after  they  would  get  happy,  were  thankful  that  it  ever  came 
upon  them.  Again,  the  wicked  are  frequently  more  afraid  of  it 
than  the  small-pox  or  yellow  fever.  These  are  subject  to  it ;  but 
the  persecutors  are  more  subject  to  it  than  any,  and  they  some¬ 
times  have  cursed  and  swore  and  damned  it  whilst  jerking. 
There  is  no  pain  attending  the  jerks  except  they  resist  them, 
which,  if  they  do,  it  will  weary  them  more  in  an  hour  than  a 
day’s  labor,  which  shows  that  it  requires  the  consent  of  the  will 
to  avoid  suffering. 

“  I  passed  by  a  meeting-house,  where  I  observed  the  under¬ 
growth  had  been  cut  up  for  a  camp-meeting,  and  from  fifty  to 
one  hundred  saplings  left  breast-high,  which  to  me  appeared  so 
Slovenish  that  I  could  not  but  ask  my  guide  the  cause,  who  ob¬ 
served  they  were  topped  so  high,  and  left  for  the  peeple  to  jerk 
by.  This  so  excited  my  attention  that  I  went  over  the  ground 
to  view  it,  and  found,  where  the  people  had  laid  hold  of  them 
and  jerked  so  powerfully,  that  they  had  kicked  up  the  earth  as 
a  horse  stamping  flies.  I  observed  some  emotion  both  this  day 
and  night  among  the  people.  A  Presbyterian  minister  (with 
whom  I  stayed)  observed :  ‘  Yesterday,  whilst  I  was  speaking, 
some  had  the  jerks,  and  a  young  man  from  North  Carolina 
mimicked  them  out  of  derision,  and  soon  was  seized  with  them 
himself  (which  was  the  case  with  many  others).  He  grew 
ashamed,  and  on  attempting  to  mount  his  horse  to  go  off,  his  foot 
jerked  about  so  that  he  could  not  put  it  into  the  stirrup.  Some 
youngsters  seeing  this,  assisted  him  on,  but  he  jerked  so  that  he 
could  not  sit  alone,  and  one  got  up  to  hold  him  on,  which  was 
done  with  difficulty.  I,  observing  this,  went  to  him,  and  asked 
him  what  he  thought  of  it.  Said  he,  ‘  I  believe  God  sent  it  on 
me  for  my  wickedness,  and  making  light  of  it  in  others  and  1  e 
requested  me  to  pray  for  him.” 


208 


MEMORANDA. 


7V. 

THE  ABOMINABLE  TEACHINGS  OF  SPIRITUALISM. 

Battle  Creek,  Micii.,  October  14, 1857 

A  great  friend  of  Methodism,  and  one  who  edits  a 
journal  in  the  interests  of  Christ,  opens  thus  : — 

Fromapaper  entitled  the  Illuminati ,  published  under 
the  auspices  of  the  Spiritualists,  we  take  the  following : 

The  third  annual  meeting  of  a  so-called  Religious  Association 
was  held  at  North  Collins,  Erie  County,  New  York,  on  the  25th, 
26th,  and  27th  of  September  last.  From  the  minutes  of  its  pro¬ 
ceedings,  as  published  in  the  Age  of  Progress ,  we  learn  that 
Andrew  J.  and  Mary  F.  Davis  were  prominent  among  the  speakers 
on  the  occasion.  The  following  among  other  declarations,  or 
“  testimonies.”  indicates  the  doctrine  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Davis:  — 

Woman  and  Marriage.  —  Resolved ,  That  woman,  being  the 
mother  of  the  world  and  a  coequal  with  man  in  the  heritage  of 
immortality,  should  be  favored  with  every  advantage  enjoyed  by 
her  brother,  for  physical,  intellectual,  and  moral  education  or  de¬ 
velopment;  that  all  civil  and  political  privileges  and  emoluments 
should  be  as  accessible  to  her  as  to  man  ;  that  the  same  remunera¬ 
tion  should  be  granted  to  her  as  to  her  brother  for  the  same  kind 
and  amount  of  labor ;  and  that,  in  the  marriage  relation,  she 
should  be  fully  secured  in  her  natural  rights  to  property,  to  the 
legal  custody  of  her  children,  and  to  the  entire  control  of  her 
own  person,  that  thereby  fewer  and  better  children  may  be  born, 
and  humanity  be  improved  and  elevated. 

This  same  editor  and  follower  of  the  New  Testament, 
after  quoting  the  above  resolution,  says  : — “  A.  J.  Davis 
claims  to  have  sprung  from  monkeys  and  babcons  ;  and 


man’s  cruelty  to  women. 


209 


certainly  his  doctrine  is  worthy  of  such  an  ancestry.  Yet 
this  wretch  in  human  form  claims  to  be  a  reformer,  and 
it  is  a  mournful  commentary  on  the  state  of  public 
morals  that  he  has  numerous  followers.  .  .  .  The  whole 
vile  breed  are  fit  only  for  a  lunatic  asylum.  This  mis¬ 
erable  delusion  is  styled  by  its  victims  ‘  the  new  reli¬ 
gion.’  Such  a  religion  is,  in  the  strongest  possible  sense, 
‘  earthly,  sensual,  and  devilish.’  To  every  pure  mind 
it  is  loathsome  and  disgusting  to  the  last  degree.  The 
man,  and  still  more  the  woman,  that  will  publicly  teach 
such  doctrines,  should  be  shunned,  as  we  would  shun 
the  devil,  whose  servants  they  are.  When  one  is  fairly 
drawn  into  the  vortex  of  this  abominable  delusion,  there 
is  no  hope  for  him.  It  is  a  leprosy  which  defies  all  cure. 
It  is  a  signing,  sealing,  and  delivering  of  the  soul  to 
Satan,  beyond  all  redemption.  When  will  the  commu¬ 
nity  have  sense  enough  and  moral  principle  enough  to 
shun  these  ‘filthy  dreamers  ?’  Their  very  touch  is  pol¬ 
luting,  and  the  ‘  poison  of  asps  is  under  their  tongues.’  ” 


VS. 


VARIOUS  FORMS  OF  MAN’S  CRUELTY  TO  WOMAN. 

Battle  Creek,  Mich.,  October  18,  1857 

An  article  in  the  last  number  of  the  North  British 
Review  contains  some  strong  remarks  on  the  outrages 
which  women  in  all  classes  of  society  endure.  The 
writer  contrasts  the  so-called  “  brutality  of  the  lower 
orders  ”  with  the  heartlessness  of  “  the  higher  orders,” 
and  shows  that  blows  inflicted  on  the  body  are  not 


210 


MEMORANDA. 


always  the  worst  forms  of  outrage.  Brutality  is  a 
common  trait  among  the  ignorant  and  degraded  poor 
of  England,  and  wife-beating  is  an  offense  of  daily 
report  in  the  English  police  courts.  But  the  writer  in 
the  Review  draws  a  picture  of  a  class,  who,  though  they 
do  not  beat  their  wives,  treat  them  still  more  cruelly  : — 

Men  of  education  and  refinement  do  not  strike  women  ;  neither 
do  they  strike  one  another.  This  is  not  their  mode  of  expressing 
resentment.  They  may  utter  words  more  cutting  than  sharp 
knives;  they  may  do  things  more  stunning  in  their  effects  on  the 
victim  than  the  blows  of  pokers  or  hammers  ;  they  may  kill  their 
wives  by  process  of  slow  torture — unkindness,  infidelity,  what¬ 
ever  shape  it  may  assume — and  society  will  forgive  them.  The 
law,  too,  has  nothing  to  say  to  them.  They  are  not  guilty  of 
what  is  recognized  as  an  assault,  because  they  only  assail  the 
affections — only  lacerate  the  heart.  They  speak  with  horror  of 
the  “brutal  wretches”  who  inflict  on  women  blows,  less  painful 
at  the  time,  and  less  abiding  in  their  effects.  But  is  their  treat¬ 
ment  of  women  any  better  than  that  of  these  ruffians?  Have 
they  any  higher  sense  of  what  is  due  to  womanhood  ?  They 
would  not  besmear  a  fair  face  with  blood;  but  they  would  set  a 
tender  heart  bleeding  until  it  can  bleed  no  more.  They  would 
not  mar  the  beauty  of  God’s  handiwork  ;  but  they  would  soil  the 
purity  of  a  virgin  soul. 

And  here  is  a  terrible  and  true  accusation,  entirely 
outside  and  beyond  the  spiritualistic  movement : — 

There  are  various  forms  of  man’s  cruelty  to  women,  of  which 
wife-beating,  we  are  afraid,  is  not  the  worst.  To  seduce,  betray, 
and  desert  a  young  and  beautiful  woman,  in  the  first  freshness 
and  innocence  of  youth — to  leave  her  to  die  slowly  of  hunger 
disease,  or  gin,  or  suddenly,  by  a  leap,  on  a  cold  winter’s  night, 
from  the  parapet  of  a  bridge  spanning  the  Thames,  is  to  do  what 
must  be  done  amongst  us  on  a  much  larger  scale  than  wife-beat¬ 
ing — else  whence  all  these  evidences  of  the  “great  sin  of  great 
cities?”  and  it  is  to  do  it  oyiietly  and  deliberately,  under  no  irre- 


MARRIAGE  AND  PARENTAGE. 


211 


sistible  provocation,  and  witli  none  of  those  attendant  excuses  or 
palliations  which  are  not  unfairly  pleaded  on  behalf  of  the  poor, 
uneducated,  ignorant  man,  whose  neglected  childhood  and  mis¬ 
guided  youth  are  naturally  and  necessarily  followed  by  a  brutal¬ 
ized  manhood. 


79. 


WANTED— MORE  KNOWLEDGE  CONCERNING  MARRIAGE 
AND  PARENTAGE. 

Aurora,  III.,  October  22,  185V. 

I  wonder  why  really  just  and  intelligent  mothers 
and  fathers  do  not  take  more  interest  in  the  laws  of  true 

harmonial  marriage . I  suppose  they  are 

frightened  by  Christian  editors,  who  cry :  “  Behold ! 

the  abominable  teachings  of  Spiritualism.” . 

O,  when  will  the  mass  rise  superior  to  their  own  foolish 
prejudices  ?  Domestic  vices  and  evils  are  to  be  totally 
destroyed  by  the  teachings  of  Spiritualism.  Read  this 
testimony : — 

In  one  of  the  New  England  States  lives  a  lad,  now 
about  twelve  or  thirteen  years  of  age,  whose  condition 
is  a  most  remarkable  demonstration  of  the  natural  law 
that,  in  every  case,  the  child  is  a  very  faithful  copy 
of  his  parents. 

The  boy  is  a  natural  drunkard.  From  his  birthday 
to  the  present  moment,  he  has  given  all  the  outward 
indications  of  being  deeply  drunk  ;  and  yet,  so  far  as  I 
know,  or  think  it  probable,  he  has  never  swallowed  a 
drop  of  ardent  spirits  in  his  life.  Though  in  good 
sound  health,  he  has  never  been  able  to  walk  without 


MEMORANDA. 


212 

staggering.  His  head  is  always  upon  his  breast ;  and 
his  speech  is  of  that  peculiar  character  which  marks  a 
person  in  a  very  low  stage  of  intoxication.  If,  never¬ 
theless,  in  the  midst  of  his  mutterings  and  reelings 
something  is  said  to  him  in  a  way  to  pass  through  the 
thick  atmosphere  of  his  intellectual  being,  and  penetrate 
his  mind,  he  at  once  rouses,  like  a  common  tippler,  and 
gives  proof  enough  that  he  is  notwantingin  native  talents, 
however  his  mental  faculties  are  enshrouded.  His  dis¬ 
position,  also,  seems  to  be  extremely  amiable.  He  is 
kind  to  every  one  around  him  ;  and  I  may  add,  he  is 
not  only  pitied  for  his  misfortune,  but  in  spite  of  his 
lamentable  condition,  regarded  with  uncommon  interest. 
He  is  looked  upon  as  a  star  of  no  mean  magnitude, 
obscured  and  almost  blotted  out  by  the  mist  in  which 
he  is  doomed  to  dwell,  until  he  shall  pass  from  the 
present  state  of  existence  to  another. 

How,  as  I  understand  the  law  of  hereditary  descent, 
there  is  nothing  unnatural  in  this  boy’s  case.  Every 
individual  ever  born,  is  governed  by  the  same  principle 
Avhich  caused  him  to  be  what  he  is.  Prior  to  marriage 
his  father  had  been  a  secret  but  confirmed  inebriate ; 
and  when  the  fact  became  known  to  the  gentle  and 
sweet-spirited  being,  who  but  a  few  months  before  had 
become  his  wife,  the  revelation  was  made  suddenly,  and 
in  a  way  the  most  impressive  and  appalling.  One 
night,  when  he  was  supposed  to  be  the  most  unimpeach¬ 
able  of  husbands,  he  staggered  home,  broke  through  the 
door  of  his  sleeping  apartment,  and  fell  down  on  the 
floor  in  a  state  of  wretched  inebriation.  For  weeks  he 
wallowed  in  misery.  During  the  next  six  or  seven 
months,  seeing  his  domestic  reputation  had  been  for- 


MARRIAGE  AND  PARENTAGE. 


213 


feited,  he  kept  up  also  a  continuous  scene  of  intoxica¬ 
tion.  When,  at  the  end  of  this  period,  it  was  told  him 
that  he  was  the  husband  of  a  mother,”  he  reeled  and 
staggered  on  without  much  abatement.  Months  passed 
away ;  but  there  occurred  no  change  in  the  habits  of 
the  poor  inebriate.  It  was  at  once  discovered,  however, 
that  there  was  something  singular  in  the  appearance  of 
the  child.  When  it  was  three  months  old,  there  began 
to  be  strange  speculations  respecting  it  among  the 
people.  At  the  age  of  six  months  these  speculations 
had  settled  down  into  a  very  general  opinion,  but  not 
a  word  was  said  to  the  disconsolate  woman  who  had 
also  begun  to  have  her  own  forebodings.  At  last,  as 
she  was  one  evening  looking  upon  her  child,  and  won¬ 
dering  what  could  be  the  reason  of  its  strange  conduct, 
the  terrible  idea  flashed  upon  her  soul— ‘‘My  child  is  a 
natural  drunkard  !”  She  shrieked  aloud ;  and  her  hus¬ 
band,  who  happened  to  be  within  hearing,  came  to  her. 
She  fell  upon  his  neck,  and  exclaimed,  “  Dear  husband, 
our  little  George  is  born  a  — — ”  She  could  proceed 
no  further,  but  swooned  away  in  her  husband's  arms. 

From  that  hour  the  father  of  the  boy  never  tasted  a 
drop  of  intoxicating  drinks.  The  sight  of  his  eyes  and 
the  heavings  of  his  heart  entirely  cured  him  of  his  habit. 
He  seldom  looks  upon  his  unfortunate  little  George 
without  shedding  a  tear  over  that  sin  which  entailed 
upon  him  a  life  of  obscurity  and  of  wretchedness.  He 
has  lived,  I  rejoice  to  add,  so  as  to  redeem  his  character, 
and  he  is  now  the  father  of  flve  children,  all  of  whom 
are  bright,  and  beautiful,  and  lovely,  excepting  only  the 
one  whose  destiny  was  thus  blasted. 

This  principle  of  inheriting  traits  and  characteristics, 


214 


MEMORANDA. 


however,  is  susceptible  of  an  indefinite  number  of  illus¬ 
trations.  It  has  become  a  proverb,  and  it  is  sustained 
by  all  history  and  observation,  that  the  offspring  of 
libidinous  connections  are  uniformly  marked  with  ten¬ 
dencies  to  strong  passions.  With  a  world  full  of  such 
or  similar  cases,  it  seems  incredible  that  men  and 
Avomen  should  longer  refuse  to  investigate  the  laws  of 
marriage  aud  parentage. 


80. 


IMPORTANT  TESTIMONY  OF  FATHER  ROBINSON. 

Waukegan,  III.,  December  16,  1857. 

We  have  been  lecturing  before  large  audiences  for 

many  weeks . The  newspapers,  especially 

those  under  the  management  of  self-styled  Christians, 
are  excessively  abusive  and  malicious.  A  mass  of  out¬ 
rageous  charges,  made  by  the  editor  of  the  Waukegan 
Gazette ,  has  brought  out  from  Mary’s  justice-loving 
father  the  following  reply  : — 

To  the  Editor  ;******  Head  the 
“Magic  Staff”  [The  Autobiography  of  A.  J.  Davis], 
and  there  find  a  truthful  relation  of  his  first  perilous 
adventure  in  this  direction,  and  his  reception  at  the 
“  Robinson  House,”  and  among  the  relatives,  the  oppo¬ 
sition  and  indignation  he  had  to  brave.  And  why  all 
this?  What  troubled  so  many  of  us?  Just  what 
troubles  the  Gazette  now,  and  all  other  ranting  oppos- 
ers — simply  that  we  were  then  and  they  are  still  ortho- 


FROM  FATHER  ROBINSON. 


215 


dox  believers,  and  Mr.  Davis  was  a  disbeliever — infidel, 
heretic,  “moral  leper!” 

We  partook  somewhat  of  this  same  sectarian  preju¬ 
dice — hence  the  cold  shoulder,  almost  indignity,  which 
he  met  with.  Nothing  else.  We  had  heard  of  the 
strange  phenomenon  down  at  Poughkeepsie  ;  a  young 
infidel,  insinuating  infidel  doctrines,  he  would  contami¬ 
nate  us  all,  especially  his  intended  ;  did  not  believe  in  the 
divine  record  !  Horrible!  Away  with  him !  Crucify 
him!  His  approach  to  our  family  was  felt  to  be  like 
that  of  a  huge  dragon  with  seven  heads,  two  tails,  and 
ten  horns,  about  to  pitch  in  among  us !  and  for  this 
reason  only— this  was  the  sum  of  his  offending.  We 
knew  nothing  against  him  otherwise.  He  appeared  like 
a  gentleman  ;  and  I  think  lie  must  have  had  his  magic 
staff  with  him,  and  used  it  as  he  alleges,  else  he  could 

not  have  endured  his  treatment  so  patiently . 

The  ground  of  most,  if  not  all,  the  opposition  to  them 
and  their  labors,  is  religious  intolerance  ! 

Said  I  to  a  clergyman  here  not  long  since,  “Fowler 
and  Combe  are  great  guides  on  the  subject  of  life  and 
health.”  He  retorted  sharply,  “  They  are  infidels,  dis¬ 
believers  in  the  Bible,  A.  J.  Davis  with  them— all  of  one 
school.”  Hence  the  inference  is  that  their  words  and 
works  are  worthless.  This  is  the  spirit  of  Bible  ortho¬ 
doxy — of  sectarianism.  “  Work  in  my  harness,  or  die !” 
They  are  afraid  to  have  the  claims  of  the  Bible  dis¬ 
cussed — it  must  not  be — hands  off.  So,  children  are 
taught  and  made  to  believe — hence  they  never  put  off’ 
childish  things — orthodoxy  and  sectarianism  are  in  dan¬ 
ger  from  the  new  philosophy,  and  it  must  be  resisted  ; 
and  where  argument  fails,  a  resort  to  personalities  is 


216 


MEMORANDA. 


had,  and  the  believers  in  the  “Father  of  lies”  invent 
falsehoods  to  ruin  the  reputation  of  reformers,  and  limit 
their  influence.  It  is  said  by  this  editor  that  Mr.  Davis 
at  a  certain  time  “  came  near  being  mobbed.”  Perhaps 
it  was  at  the  Hartford  Bible  Convention,  the  first  gath¬ 
ering,  I  suppose,  in  this,  or  any  other  country,  to  dis¬ 
cuss  and  question  the  claims  of  the  Bible,  which  barely 
escaped  being  mobbed  by  the  Orthodox  Bible  believers 
there  assembled — Mr.  Davis  being  a  member  of  that 
convention. 

Mother  Earth,  by  the  fruits  of  this  intolerance,  is  paved 
with  human  skeletons,  both  pagan  and  Christian,  Ma¬ 
hometan  and  Jew . Mines  of  treasure  have 

been  expended,  in  the  shape  of  money,  time,  and  labor, 
in  building  temples  of  worship,  educating  and  support¬ 
ing  a  priesthood,  all  for  the  soul’s  eternal  interest,  after 
the  Bible  pattern.  Now  let  this  vast  tide  of  wealth 
take  a  new  direction — be  applied  more  to  the  bodily 
comforts — the  physical  and  mental  wants  of  man — to 
remodel  society — reform,  refine,  and  elevate  the  race — 
promote  and  extend  the  universal  brotherhood  and  sis¬ 
terhood  of  man — prepare  him  to  live  right  here,  and 
the  hereafter  will  take  care  of  itself. 

C.  Robinson.* 


*  Mary's  father,  whose  entire  earthly  life  was  one  of  physical  and 
mental  industry,  crowned  with  truth  and  honor,  has  taken  up  his  resi¬ 
dence  in  the  Summer  Land.  If  the  reader  would  seek  more  ample  testi¬ 
mony  than  we  have  given  in  the  brief  extract,  it  may  be  found  in  a  livtla 
family  volume  entitled  “Father  Robinson’s  Scrap  Book.’* 


MURDER  BY  BIBLE  BEIJEVER8. 


217 


81. 


MURDER  COMMITTED  BY  BIBLE  BELIEVERS. 

New  York,  December  14,  1859. 

The  religious  papers  of  this  country  have  been  filled 
with  horrible  stories  of  dark  deeds  committed  by  spirit¬ 
ualists — mere  fabrications ;  while  the  Tribune  gives 
a  case  of  real  crime  committed  by  full  believers  in 
“  hell,”  “  devil,”  and  all  the  great  “  cardinal  ”  points  of 
orthodoxy : — 

'The  late  strange  murder  at  New  Haven  seems  to 
have  grown  out  of  a  religious  delusion  very  singular  in 
its  particular  details,  but  in  its  general  character  suffi¬ 
ciently  common.  The  Widow  Wakeman,  the  woman 
on  whose  behalf  it  was  perpetrated  ;  Elder  Sly,  the 
man  who  committed  it ;  Justus  Matthews,  the  man  who 
was  murdered,  and  the  four  other  persons  who  were  in 
the  house  at  the  time  of  the  murder,  and  who  if  they 
did  not  actually  assist  in  it,  knew  of  it,  and  connived 
at  it,  all  appear  to  have  been  wretched  victims  of  a 
hallucination  falling  little  if  any  thing  short  of  in¬ 
sanity. 

The  Widow  Wakeman  was  believed  by  her  followers, 
and  doubtless  believed  herself,  to  be  a  person  who  had 
risen  from  the  dead  and  had  been  sent  as  a  special 
“messenger”  to  redeem  the  world.  The  very  exist- 
10 


2i3 


MEMORANDA. 


ence  of  the  world  was  indeed  believed  to  be  bound  up 
in  her  life,  since  it  was  imagined  that  immediately 
upon  her  death  the  end  of  the  earth  and  the  “Judg¬ 
ment  ” — of  which  these  persons  seem  to  have  had  a  great 
deal — would  follow.  But  with  all  her  supernatural 
gifts  and  graces,  the  Widow  Wakeman,  as  usually  hap¬ 
pens  in  such  legends,  had  also  a  supernatural  enemy  to 
encounter — no  less  a  one,  indeed,  than  the  “  devil  ”  him¬ 
self,  or  at  least  one  of  his  imps.  This  evil  spirit,  it  was 
believed,  had  first  taken  possession  of  the  body  of  one 
Hunt,  who,  it  is  alleged,  had  unsuccessfully  tried  to 
poison  the  “  messenger  ”  with  arsenic.  Next,  this  evil 
spii’it  was  supposed  to  have  passed  into  the  person  of 
Justus  Matthews,  the  man  upon  whom  the  murder  was 
perpetrated.  Having  thus  become  the  “  man  of  sin,” 
Matthews  was  accused,  not,  indeed,  of  any  overt  acts  of 
personal  violence,  but  of  bewitching  the  “messenger” 
with  his  eyes,  and  in  that  way  greatly  distressing  her, 
and  even  endangering  her  precious  life,  and  thereby 
the  duration  of  the  world.  Matthews  himself  seemed 
fully  to  have  believed  in  the  fact  of  his  being  thus  pos¬ 
sessed,  and  of  exercising  this  malign  power.  He  was 
anxious  to  have  the  evil  spirit  driven  out  of  him,  and 
for  that  purpose  came  to  Sly’s  house  in  New  Haven, 
where  the  Widow  Wakeman  lived,  and  where  was  the 
scene  of  her  religious  teachings  and  exercises.  He 
there  submitted  to  be  blindfolded  and  to  have  his  hands 
tied  behind  him,  keeping  himself  retired  in  a  room 
below,  apart  from  the  rest,  who  were  singing  and  pray¬ 
ing  above.  If  the  witnesses  are  to  be  believed,  he  even 
expressed  a  willingness  to  die  if  the  evil  spirit  could 
not  otherwise  be  driven  from  him,  and  the  precious 


MURDER  RY  RLDLE  RELIEVERS. 


219 


health  and  life  of  the  “  messenger  ”  secured.  Elder 
Slj  appears  to  have  been  perfectly  satisfied  that  noth¬ 
ing  short  of  the  death  of  Matthews  would  answer;  and 
while  the  others  were  going  ou  with  their  religious  ex¬ 
ercises,  he  proceeded  to  murder  him,  with  the  full 
knowledge  and  consent  of  the  rest,  and  apparently  at 
the  express  instigation  of  the  Widow  Wakeman. 

A  bloody  tragedy  of  this  sort,  enacted  under  the  very 
eaves,  as  it  were,  of  Yale  College,  in  the  intelligent, 
enlightened  and  pious  city  of  New  Haven,  must  strike 
every  one  who  hears  of  it  with  a  sudden  and  creeping 
horror.  Yet  the  sort  of  delusion  out  of  which  it  grew 
is  by  no  means  rare  or  uncommon.  In  what  did  that 
delusion  differ,  we  should  like  to  ask,  from  that  which 
has  made  so  many  ecclesiastics  believe  not  only  that 
they  had  power,  both  in  earth  and  heaven,  to  bind  and 
to  loose,  but  also  that  it  was  their  right  to  deliver  over 
the  enemies  of  the  Church  to  the  secular  arm  to  be  put 
to  death  ?  In  what  does  this  delusion  differ  except  in 
its  bloody  catastrophe — nor  does  even  that  difference 
always  exist — from  that  which  makes  up  the  staple  of 
the  innumerable  miraculous  legends  of  the  Middle 
Ages?  We  have  chosen  this  example,  not  because  the 
Middle  Ages  by  any  means  had  a  monopoly  of  these  de¬ 
lusions,  but  because  it  is  more  agreeable  to  contemplate 
the  faults  of  other  people  than  our  own. 


220 


MEMORANDA. 


sa. 

MISS  LIZZIE  DOTEN  BEFORE  THE  PEOPLE. 

New  York,  October  17,  1864. 

Something  this  morning  makes  me  recall  that  not 
long  since  I  for  the  first  time  saw  Miss  Lizzie  Doten  on 
the  platform . This  slender,  graceful,  spir¬ 

itual,  prophetic-looking  woman,  whose  voice,  sweet 
and  clear,  rings  out  fearlessly,  is  exerting  a  wide  and 
lasting  influence  on  the  thousands  who  listen  to  her 
utterances.  She  accomplishes  more  spiritual  labor,  and 
endures  annually  more  bodily  fatigue,  in  journeying 
from  city  to  city,  than  a  phrenologist  or  a  physiologist 
would  consider  possible.  .  .  .  She  is  the  very  soul 

of  earnestness  and  lucidity  in  thought,  and  the  author, 
under  inspiration,  of  numerous  poetic  compositions,  sur¬ 
passingly  opulent  in  deep  truth  and  excellence,  but 
remarkable,  chiefly,  for  a  kind  of  ethereal  penetration 
into  the  secret  springs  of  human  character,  feelings,  im¬ 
pulses,  and  motives.  Her  pale  complexion,  black  and 
glossy  hair,  dark,  and  singularly-expressive  eyes— the 
entire  atmosphere  of  her  face  and  figure — impress  me 
with  the  feeling  that  every  word  she  speaks  is  the  coin 
of  a  mind  that  has  thought  and  struggled  in  earnest. 
.  .  .  I  do  not  wonder  that  so  real,  and  yet  shadowy, 

a  genius  as  Poe,  should,  from  his  higher  life  and  still 


THE  CHILDREN’S  LYCEUM. 


221 


mystic  wanderings,  seek  to  impress  this  serious,  logical, 
metaphysical,  poetic  mind.  ....  This  brilliant- 
minded  woman,  with  her  earnest  and  clear  perception 
of  truth,  is  certain  to  enrich  the  world.  And  I  hope 
the  world  will  have  wit  enough  to  kindly  accept  it. 


83. 


PICNIC  EXCURSION  OF  THE  CHILDREN’S  LYCEUM. 

New  York,  October  18,  1864. 

A  few  days  ago  I  attended  the  Annual  Excursion  and 
Picnic  of  the  children,  parents,  and  members  of  the 
New  York  Society  of  Progressive  Spiritualists.  The 
day  was  perfect,  everybody  seemed  delighted,  and  the 
whole  party  returned  to  the  city  and  to  their  homes, 
without  the  least  accident  or  discord  to  mar  the  pleas¬ 
ures  and  memories  of  the  occasion.  Fancy,  then,  my 
unutterable  astonishment,  not  to  say  indignation,  when, 
on  taking  up  the  Springfield  (Mass.)  Republican  this 
morning,  I  read  : — 

“At  a  recent  spiritual  picnic  near  New  York,  seven  women 
were  brutally  outraged,  two  men  killed,  five  wounded,  and  four¬ 
teen  robbed,  not  only  of  their  watches  and  portemonnaies,  but 
of  their  clothes,  so  that  they  were  compelled  to  hide  in  the  woods 
all  night.” 

The  editorial  staff  of  the  Republican  is  composed  of 
scholarly  and  Christian  gentlemen.  They  are  members 
of  the  churches  popularly  termed  “  Orthodox,”  and  they 
are  publishing  an  influential  journal.  But  is  it  not  a 


222 


MEMORANDA. 


new  problem  in  morals,  how  it  is  possible  for  such  gen¬ 
tlemen  to  perpetrate  the  foregoing  absolutely  disgusting 
and  horrible  falsehood  ? 


84. 

THE  WORLD  BROUGHT  TO  JUDGMENT. 

New  York,  October  19,  1864. 

The  following  thrilling  “Moral  Police”  vision  was 
described,  as  I  am  informed,  by  an  English  gentleman, 
who  has  more  than  once  furnished  evidence  that  he  is, 
at  times,  both  a  medium  and  a  seer  : — 

I  saw  a  mighty  Spirit  traversing  the  world  without 
rest  or  pause.  It  was  omnipresent,  it  was  all-powerful, 
it  had  no  compunction,  no  pity,  no  relenting  sense  that 
any  appeal  from  any  of  the  race  of  men  could  reach. 
It  was  invisible  to  every  creature  born  upon  the  earth, 
save  once  to  each.  It  turned  its  shaded  face  on  what¬ 
soever  living  thing,  one  time;  and  straight  the  end  of 
that  thing  was  come.  It  passed  through  the  forest, 
and  the  vigorous  tree  it  looked  on  shrunk  away ;  through 
the  garden,  and  the  leaves  perished  and  the  flowers 
withered  ;  through  the  air,  and  the  eagles  flagged  upon 
the  wing,  and  dropped  ;  through  the  sea,  and  the  mon¬ 
sters  of  the  deep  floated,  great  wrecks,  upon  the  waters. 
It  met  the  eyes  of  lions  in  their  lairs,  and  they  were 
dust ;  its  shadow  darkened  the  faces  of  young  children 
lying  asleep,  and  they  awoke  no  more. 

It  had  its  work  appointed ;  it  inexorably  did  wThat 
was  appointed  to  it  to  do  ;  and  neither  sped  nor  slack- 


BROUGH  '  TO  JUDGMENT. 


223 


ened.  Called  to,  it  went  on  unmoved,  and  did  not 
come.  Besought,  by  some  who  felt  that  it  was  drawing 
near,  to  change  its  course,  it  turned  its  shaded  face 
upon  them,  even  while  they  cried,  and  they  were  dumb. 
It  passed  into  the  midst  of  palace  chambers,  where  there 
were  lights  and  music,  pictures,  diamonds,  gold,  and 
silver ;  crossed  the  wrinkled  and  the  gray,  regardless 
of  them ;  looked  into  the  eyes  of  a  bright  bride,  and 
vanished.  It  revealed  itself  to  the  baby  on  the  old 
crone’s  knee,  and  left  the  old  crone  wailing  by  the  lire. 
But  whether  the  beholder  of  its  face  were  now  a  king, 
or  now  a  laborer ;  now  a  queen,  or  now  a  seamstress, 
let  the  hand  it  palsied  be  on  the  scepter  or  the  plow, 
or  yet  too  small  and  nerveless  to  grasp  any  thing,  the 
Spirit  never  paused  in  its  appointed  work,  and,  sooner 
or  later,  turned  its  impartial  face  on  all. 

I  saw  a  Minister  of  State  sitting  in  his  closet,  and 
round  about  him,  rising  from  the  country  which  he 
governed,  up  to  the  eternal  heavens,  was  a  low,  dull 
howl  of  ignorance.  It  was  a  wild,  inexplicable  mutter, 
confused,  but  full  of  threatening,  and  it  made  all  hear¬ 
ers’  hearts  to  quake  within  them.  But,  few  heard.  In 
the  single  city  where  this  Minister  of  State  was  seated, 
I  saw  thirty  thousand  children,  hunted,  flogged,  im¬ 
prisoned,  but  not  taught — who  might  have  been  nur¬ 
tured  by  the  wolf  or  bear,  so  little  of  humanity  had 
they,  within  them  or  without — all  joining  in  this  dole¬ 
ful  cry.  And,  ever  among  them,  as  among  all  ranks 
and  grades  of  mortals,  in  all  parts  of  the  globe,  the 
Spirit  went;  and  ever  by  thousands  in  their  brutish 
state,  with  all  the  gifts  of  God  perverted  in  their  br  easts 
or  trampled  on,  they  died. 


224 


MEMORANDA. 


The  Minister  of  State,  whose  heart  was  pierced  bj 
even  the  little  he  could  hear  of  these  terrible  voices, 
day  and  night  rising  to  heaven,  went  among  the  priests  , 
and  teachers  of  all  denominations,  and  faintly  said : — 

“  Harken  to  this  dreadful  cry  !  what  shall  we  do  to 
stay  it  ?” 

One  body  of  respondents  answered,  “  Teach  this !” 

Another  said,  “  Teach  that !” 

Another  said,  “  Teach  neither  this  nor  that,  but 
the  other  1” 

Another  quarreled  with  all  the  three  ;  twenty  others 
quarreled  with  all  the  four,  and  quarreled  no  less  bit¬ 
terly  among  themselves.  The  voices,  not  stayed  by 
this,  cried  out  day  and  night ;  and  still  among  those 
many  thousands,  as  among  all  mankind,  went  the  Spirit 
who  never  rested  from  its  labor ;  and  still,  in  brutish 
sort,  they  died. 

Then  a  whisper  murmured  to  the  Minister  of  State  : — 

“  Correct  this  for  thyself.  Be  bold !  Silence  these 
voices,  or  virtuously  lose  thy  power  in  the  attempt  to 
do  it.  Thou  canst  not  sow  a  grain  of  good  seed  in  vain. 
Thou  knowest  it  well.  Be  bold,  and  do  thy  duty !” 

The  minister  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  replied : — 

“  It  is  a  great  wrong — but  it  will  last  my  time.”  And 
so  he  put  it  from  him. 

Then  the  whisper  went  among  the  priests  and  teach¬ 
ers,  saying  to  each  :  “  In  thy  soul  thou  knowest  it  is  a 
truth,  O  man,  that  there  are  good  things  to  be  taught, 
and  stay  this  cry.” 

To  which  each  answered  in  like  manner  : — “It  is  a 
great  wrong — but  it  will  last  my  time.”  And  so  he 
put  it  from  him. 


BROUGHT  TO  JUDGMENT. 


225 


I  saw  a  poisoned  air,  in  which  life  drooped.  I  saw 
disease,  arrayed  in  all  its  store  of  hideous  aspects  and 
appalling  shapes,  triumphant  in  every  alley,  by-way 
court,  back  street,  and  poor  abode,  in  every  place  where 
human  beings  congregated — in  the  proudest  and  most 
boastful  places  most  of  all.  I  saw  innumerable  hosts, 
foredoomed  to  darkness,  dirt,  pestilence,  obscenity, 
misery,  and  early  death.  I  saw,  wheresoever  I  looked, 
cunning  preparations  made  for  defacing  the  Creator’s 
image,  from  the  moment  of  its  appearance  here  on 
earth,  and  stamping  over  it  the  image  of  the  devil.  I 
saw  from  those  reeking  and  pernicious  stews,  the 
avenging  consequences  of  such  sin  issuing  forth,  and 
penetrating  to  the  highest  places.  I  saw  the  rich  struck 
down  in  their  strength,  their  darling  children  weakened 
and  withered,  their  marriageable  sons  and  daughters 
perish  in  their  prime.  I  saw  that  not  one  miserable 
wretch  breathed  out  his  poisoned  life  in  the  deepest 
cellar  of  the  most  neglected  town ;  but,  from  the  sur¬ 
rounding  atmosphere  some  particles  of  his  infection 
were  borne  away,  charged  with  heavy  retribution  on 
the  general  guilt. 

There  wrere  many  attentive  and  alarmed  persons 
looking  on,  who  saw  these  things  too  ;  they  were  well 
clothed,  and  had  purses  in  their  pockets ;  they  were 
educated,  full  of  kindness,  and  loved  mercy.  They  said 
to  one  another,  u  This  is  horrible,  and  shall  not  be !” 
And  there  was  a  stir  among  them  to  set  it  right. 

But,  opposed  to  these,  came  a  small  multitude  of 
noisy  fools  and  greedy  knaves,  whose  harvest  was  in 
such  horrors;  and  they,  with  impudence  and  turmoil, 
and  with  scurrilous  jests  at  misery  and  deadi,  re 
*10 


226 


MEMORANDA. 


pelled  the  better  lookers-on,  who  soon  fell  back,  and 
stood  aloof. 

Then  the  whisper  went  among  those  better  lookers- 
on,  saying,  “  Over  the  bodies  of  those  fellows,  to  the 
remedy !” 

But  each  of  them  moodily  shrugged  his  shoulders, 
and  replied  : — “  It  is  a  great  wrong — but  it  will  last 
my  time  !”  And  so  they  put  it  from  them. 

I  saw  a  great  library  of  laws  and  law  proceedings,  so 
complicated,  costly,  and  unintelligible,  that,  although 
numbers  of  lawyers  united  in  a  public  fiction  that  these 
were  wonderfully  just  and  equal,  there  was  scarcely  an 
honest  man  among  them,  but  who  said  to  his  friend, 
privately  consulting  him,  “  Better  put  up  with  a  fraud 
or  other  injury,  than  grope  for  redress  through  the 
manifold  blind  turnings  and  strange  chances  of  this 
system.” 

I  saw  a  portion  of  the  system,  called  (of  all  things) 
equity,  which  was  ruin  to  suitors,  ruin  to  property,  a 
shield  for  wrong-doers  having  money,  a  rack  for  right- 
doers,  having  none  ;  a  by-word  for  delay,  slow  agony 
of  mind,  despair,  impoverishment,  trickery,  confusion, 
insupportable  injustice — a  main  part  of  it.  I  saw  pris¬ 
oners  wasting  in  jail;  mad  people  in  hospitals;  suicides 
chronicled  in  the  yearly  records  ;  orphans  robbed  of 
their  inheritance  ;  infants  righted  (perhaps)  when  they 
were  gray. 

Certain  lawyers  and  laymen  came  together,  and  said 
to  one  another  : — “  In  only  one  of  these,  our  Courts  of 
Equity,  there  are  years  of  this  dark  perspective  before 
us  at  the  present  moment.  We  must  change  this.” 

Uprose,  immediately,  a  throng  of  others — secretaries, 


BROUGHT  TO  JUDGMENT. 


227 


petty  bags,  hanapers,  chaff-waxes,  and  what  not,  sing¬ 
ing  (in  answer),  “  Rule  Britannia,”  and  “  God  save 
the  Queen  making  flourishing  speeches,  pronounced 
hard  names,  demanding  committees,  commissions,  com¬ 
missioners,  and  other  scarecrows,  and  terri tying  the  lit¬ 
tle  band  of  innovators  out  of  their  flve  wits. 

Then  the  whisper  went  among  the  latter,  as  they 
shrunk  back,  saying,  “  If  there  is  any  wrong  within  the 
universal  knowledge,  this  wrong  is ;  Go  on !  Set  it 
right !” 

Whereon,  each  of  them  sorrowfully  thrust  his  hands 
in  his  pockets,  and  replied  : — “  It  is,  indeed,  a  great 
wrong — BUT  IT  will  last  my  time  !”  And  so  they  put 
it  from  them. 

The  Spirit,  with  its  face  concealed,  summoned  all  the 
people  who  had  used  this  phrase  about  their  Time,  into 
its  presence.  Then  it  said,  beginning  with  the  Minister 
of  State : — 

“  Of  what  duration  is  your  time  ?” 

The  Minister  of  State  replied,  “  My  ancient  family 
has  always  been  long-lived.  My  father  died  at  eighty- 
four ;  my  grandfather  at  ninety-two.  We  have  the 
gout,  but  bear  it  (like  our  honors)  many  years.” 

“  And  you,”  said  the  Spirit  to  the  priest  and  teachers, 
“  what  may  your  time  be  ?” 

Some  believed  that  they  were  so  strong,  as  that  they 
should  number  many  more  years  than  threescore  and 
ten  ;  others  were  the  sons  of  old  incumbents,  who  had 
long  outlived  youthful  expectants.  Others,  for  any 
means  they  had  of  calculating,  might  be  long-lived  or 
short-lived — generally  (they  had  a  strong  pirsuasion), 
long.  So,  among  the  lawyers  and  laymen. 


228 


MEMORANDA. 


“  But,  every  man,  as  I  understand  you,  one  and  all,” 
said  the  Spirit,  “  has  his  time  ?” 

“Yes!”  they  exclaimed  together. 

“  Yes,”  said  the  Spirit ;  “  and  it  is — eternity  !  Who¬ 
soever  is  a  consenting  party  to  a  wrong,  comforting 
himself  with  the  base  reflection  that  it  will  last  his 
time,  shall  bear  his  portion  of  that  wrong  throughout 
all  time.  And,  in  the  hour  when  he  and  I  stand  face 
to  face,  he  shall  surely  know  it,  as  my  name  is  Justice  !” 

It  departed,  turning  its  face  hither  and  thither,  as  it 
passed  along  upon  its  ceaseless  work,  and  marking  all 
on  whom  it  looked. 

Then  went  among  many  trembling  hearers  the  whis¬ 
per,  saying,  “  See,  each  of  you,  before  you  take  your 
ease,  O  wicked,  selfish  men,  that  what  will  ‘  last  your 
time,’  be  just  enough  to  last  forever  !” 


85. 

KEY.  J.  H.  FOWLER  ON  THE  COMPARATIVE  AMOUNT  OF 
EVIDENCE. 

New  York,  October  19,  1864. 

The  testimony  which  I  have  collected  with  regard  to 
Spiritualism,  records  this  critical  and  candid  “  Divinity 
Student,”  though  not  a  tithe  of  what  has  come  under  my 
observation,  and  in  many  respects — owing  principally 
to  the  necessity  for  brevity— not  so  complete  and  con¬ 
vincing  as  much  which  I  have  rejected,  is  still  sufficient 
to  establish  the  facts,  as  far  as  human  testimony  can 
do  it.  The  facts  must  either  be  admitted,  or  the  testi- 


comparative  amount  of  evidence. 


229 


mony  of  the  human  senses,  however  multiplied,  pro¬ 
nounced  unreliable.  If  the  latter  alternative  be  accept¬ 
ed,  then,  of  course,  it  applies  as  well  to  past  ages  as  to 
the  present,  and  the  New  Testament  testimony  is  worth 
nothing.  So  all  a  priori  objections  to  the  occurrence 
of  any  fact,  or  class  of  facts,  at  the  present  day,  would 
apply  with  equal  force  to  those  of  any  past  age.  And 
all  arguments  from  the  wants  of  mankind,  previous 
prophecies,  and  arguments  of  whatever  kind,  -which  have 
been  made  to  render  the  New  Testament  accounts  proba¬ 
ble,  will  apply  with  equal  force  to  those  of  the  present 
day  ;  so  that,  aside  from  the  amount  of  testimony,  the 
ancient  “  miracles”  have  no  advantage. 

Let  us,  then,  compare  the  testimony  in  favor  of  each. 
To  facilitate  this,  we  will  classify  the  so-called  miracles 
of  the  New  Testament  in  the  following  manner: — 

1st.  The  counteraction  of  the  law  of  gravitation  in 
the  movement  of  physical  objects  ;  the  rolling  away  the 
stone  at  the  door  of  the  sepulcher  of  Christ;  the  opening 
of  the  prison-doors  to  Peter ;  Christ  walking  on  the 
water,  &c. 

2d.  Luminous  appearances  accompanying  the  mani¬ 
festations  of  physical  power,  and  the  seeing  of  spirits — • 
as  in  the  case  of  Peter’s  release  from  prison ;  the  trans¬ 
figuration  of  Christ  ou  the  mount ;  the  conversion  of 
Paul  on  the  day  of  Pentecost. 

3d.  Spirits  are  seen,  recognized  and  conversed  with — 
as,  Moses  and  Elias;  Christ  after  his  death;  and  others. 

4th.  V oices  are  heard — as  at  St.  Paul’s  convers’"  pn ;  at 
the  baptism  of  Christ,  &c. 

5th.  Speaking  in  unknown  tongues. 


230 


MEMORANDA. 


6th.  Jesus  is  taught  to  read. 

7th.  A  remarkable  healing  power  is  exhibited. 

8th.  Cursing  the  fig-tree. 

9th.  Turning  water  into  wine. 

10th.  Feeding  a  multitude  on  less  than  nothing. 

11th.  Raising  a  person  from  the  dead. 

12th.  Child  horn  with  no  natural  father. 

These  twelve  classes,  I  believe,  comprise  all  the  pre¬ 
tended  miracles  of  the  New  Testament. 

We  will  first  present  our  testimony  to  facts  precisely 
similar  to,  or  involving  the  same  principles  as,  those  of 
the  first  seven  classes,  and  then  consider  the  other  five 
particular  ones.  The  reader  should  now  turn  to  the 
testimony ,  arid  read  the  cases  as  they  are  referred  to. 
(See  his  historically  excellent  pamphlet.) 

Witnesses  for  New  Testament  miracles  are,  according 
to  the  record,  Saul  of  Tarsus  (otherwise  called  Paul) ; 
Peter,  a  fisherman  of  Galilee  ;  Luke,  Paul’s  secretary  ; 
Mark,  Peter’s  secretary ;  Matthew,  a  tax-gatherer  of 
Capernaum  ;  John,  a  fisherman  of  Galilee. 

Witnesses  to  modern  miracles  or  manifestations,  in 
this  day  and  hour,  can  he  counted  by  hundreds  of 
thousands ! 


S6. 


CHANGES  IN  THE  RELIGIOUS  WORLD  HERALDED  BY 
WONDERFUL  SIGNS. 

New  York,  October  20,  1864. 

At  this  moment  it  seems  to  me  to  be  an  undeniable 
historical  fact,  that  intimately  associated  with  all  reli- 


WONDERFUL  SIGNS. 


£31 


gious  dispensations  have  been  certain  spiritual  excite¬ 
ments  and  awakenings  ;  a  certain  fertilization  and  blos¬ 
soming  of  the  spiritual  sentiments  of  mankind ;  also, 
that  in  keeping  with  such  fertilization  and  exaltation 
of  the  religious  feelings,  there  have  been  remarkable 
“  manifestations,”  showing  the  working  of  interior 

causes,  potential  and  intelligent . When 

an  old  dispensation  retires  from  the  stage,  a  new  one  is 
heralded  by  certain  notifications  that  are  striking  to 
the  senses — acting  directly  upon  the  external  and  in¬ 
ternal  nature  of  man,  rousing  his  intellectual  and  moral 
powers  to  a  fresh  apprehension  of  principles.  Mankind 
have  called  these  developments  “  miracles  ” — the  mys¬ 
terious  operations  of  yet  more  mysterious  and  distant 
agents.  But  we  now  know  that  it  is  the  inevitable 
operation  of  a  vigorous  vital  force  within  the  constitu¬ 
tion  of  man — prophetic  on  the  summit  of  all  human 
hope  and  reason,  and  is  what  religious  peoplecall  “  God.” 
It  is  what  physicists  call  the  “  Law  of  Nature;”  it  is 
what  the  skeptic  calls  the  natural  religious  “  proclivity 
of  humanity  ;”  it  is  what  the  historian  calls  the  testimony 
of  “  God  speaking  through  human  history.”  .... 
All  human  history  is  alike ;  repeats  itself.  It  brings 
unanimous  testimony  that  every  dispensation  has  been 
heralded  by  and  intimately  associated  with  these  mys¬ 
terious  manifestations  of  spirit-power.  It  is  something 
grander  than  a  mere  question  of  testimony.  There  is 
a  genius  in  human  life  which  indorses  this  uniformity 

of  spiritual  experience . Inspiration  comes 

from  agents  once  living  in  flesh,  but  who,  by  being 
subjected  to  the  chemical  process  called  physical  deafh, 
have  been  disinthralled,  launched  on  the  broad  sea  of 


232 


MEMORANDA. 


future  existence,  with  the  power  not  only  to  think 
better  thoughts,  and  to  feel  nobler  sentiments,  hut  with 
all  their  characteristic  attractions,  which,  like  telegraphic 
lines  of  communication,  lead  them  instinctively  and 
joyously  back  to  the  haunts  of  life  on  the  earth  ;  and 
thus,  wherever  in  Germany,  in  Scotland,  in  Ireland,  or 
in  this  country,  the  spirits  found  a  house  where  the 
conditions  were  in  harmony  with  manifestations,  they 
have  made  them  ;  and  so,  in  spite  of  human  ignorance 
and  superstition  there  has  been,  so  to  say,  a  sort  of 
apostolic  testimony,  not  only  through  human  history  in 
this  life,  but  from  human  history  in  the  higher  world — 
the  present  and  future  being  intimately  and  indissolubly 

united ! . How,  in  modern  days,  by 

examining  these  matters  carefully,  men  become  free  to 
reject  all  irrational  supernaturalism ;  are  not  fettered 
with  belief  in  an  abstract  God— in  any  power  which 
subverts,  or  inverts,  or  transcends,  or  in  any  way  in¬ 
fringes  upon,  the  well-established  order  of  the  natural 
universe  and  the  great  spiritual  empire  to  which  all  is 
tending . Spiritualism  is  a  great  Eman¬ 

cipator  !  It  has  a  remarkably  liberalizing  influence ; 
for  through  facts,  well  ascertained,  we  have  discovered 
that  our  existence  after  death  is  not  ghostly  and  ghastly, 
but  is  natural,  palpable,  definable,  and  most  desirable — 
a  relative  existence,  as  much  in  harmony  with  objects 
and  substances  as  the  present.  Spiritual  manifestations 
are  not  only  a  key  by  which  to  solve  man’s  spiritual 
constitution  as  he  is,  but  they  scientifically  and  pro 
phetically  demonstrate  his  constitution  as  it  is  to  be. 


THEODORE  PARKER. 


233 


er. 


IMPRESSIONS  OF  THEODORE  PARKER. 

New  York,  October  23,  1SG4 

Not  since  the  summer  of  1859,  while  engaged,  at  M:. 
Poole's  residence,  in  the  composition  of  the  “Thinker,” 
(Gt.  Har.,  vol.  5*),  have  I  felt  the  comprehensive  pres¬ 
ence  of  Theodore  Parker . True,  honest, 

energetic,  reverential,  modest,  inspired !  he  is  greatly 

beloved  in  the  Summer  Land . Of  him  it 

is  wisely  said  :  “  His  spiritual  life  had  its  fountains  and 
its  sanctions,  not  in  the  traditions  and  creeds  and  cus¬ 
toms  of  churches,  but  in  the  depths  of  his  own  spiritual 
nature.  He  lived  from  within,  not  from  without.  No 
vicarious,  artificial,  or  ceremonial  sanctities  molded  his 
spirit,  controlled  his  conduct,  or  prescribed  his  destiny. 
His  thoughts,  beliefs,  devotions — his  hopes,  aspirations, 
assurances — his  yearnings,  exertions,  sacrifices ;  his  pur¬ 
poses,  vows,  obediences — were  his  own  :  dictated  only 
by  his  own  consciousness,  governed  only  by  his  own 
judgment,  warranted  only  by  his  uwn  nature,  conse¬ 
crated  freely  to  his  own  salvation.  He  revered  the  tra¬ 
ditional,  but  not  the  dust  in  which  it  was  enshrined. 
He  loved  the  ancient  saints,  not  for  the  titles  bestowed 

*  For  th«  author’s  estimate  of  Mr.  Parker’s  charaiter  a-  d  writings 
see  the  volume  referred  to. 


234 


MEMORANDA. 


upon  them  by  the  manufacturers  of  a  sinister  calendar, 
hut  for  the  radiant  virtues  that  made  them  strong 
whilst  they  lived,  and  the  unquenchable  piety  that  gave 
them  immortality.  Prophets  he  revered,  not  because 
ecclesiastical  tribunals  had  pronounced  them  divine,  but 
because  they  had  borne  the  testimony  of  their  protests, 
their  sorrows,  and  their  blood  to  the  everlastiug  justice 
of  Grod,  and  to  the  outraged  rights  and  responsibilities 
of  maukind.  He  called  no  man  ‘  master but,  with  the 
beautiful  modesty  of  true  righteousness,  he  preserved 
his  mind  free  from  every  ghostly  enslavement,  that  it 
might  the  more  purely  dedicate  itself  to  the  simple 
services  of  earth  and  heaven.” 

In  1851  I  visited  Theodore  Parker  in  his  study.  It 
was  a  cold  day  in  Boston.  His  writing  and  thinking 
room  looked  to  me  like  a  book-store,  where  one  could 
get  musty  copies  of  most  ancient  works  by  authors  long 
since  departed  from  the  world’s  memory.  The  four 
sides  of  his  study  were  books,  books — nothing  but 
books,  in  all  kinds  of  covers — from  floor  to  ceiling.  He, 
the  master,  sat  very  near  an  old-fashioned  kitchen  wood 
stove,  with  a  broad  flat  top,  suggestive  of  a  good  place 
to  bake  immense  buckwheat  cakes.  .  .  .  Against 

the  wall,  near  his  desk,  hung  a  rusty  musket  and  sol¬ 
dierly  gearings,  recalling  the  old  revolutionary  war. 
.  .  .  He,  an  outcast  from  all  the  Boston  churches, 

looked  gloriously  and  lovingly,  while  in  speech  his  heart 
came  tenderly  forth  ;  and  through  plain,  short,  earnest 
words,  he  freely  testified  his  decided  interest,  almost 
entire  faith,  in  the  demonstrations  of  Clairvoyance  and 
Spiritualism,  which  he  regarded  at  least  as  among 
the  many  great  educational  agencies  promotive  of  the 


RAISING  THE  DEAD. 


235 


world’s  progress  and  emancipation.  .  .  .  Bnt  1 

could  not  talk  with  him !  His  multitudinous  books 
oppressed  me.  .  .  I  wished  for  a  walk  with  him  in 

the  woods ;  possibly,  in  the  great  out-doors  I  might  be 
at  home  with  him. 


88. 

THE  MIRACLE  OF  RAISING  A  PERSON  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

New  York,  November  2,  1864. 

This  afternoon  a  gentleman  called  at  our  office,  No. 
274  Canal  Street,  to  obtain  facts  and  arguments  suitable 
for  a  discussion  ol  the  claims  of  “  modern  miracles  ”  as 
he  called  them.  ...  I  handed  him  my  friend  J. 
H.  Fowler’s  admirable  essay  on  this  very  subject, 
which  he  read  before  the  middle  and  senior  classes  in 
Cambridge  Divinity  School.  .  .  .  This  circumstance 
reminds  me  of  the  following  interesting  passage  in  Mr. 
Fowler’s  pamphlet : — 

There  is  only  one  case  of  this  kind  in  the  New  Testa¬ 
ment,  that  of  Lazarus.  In  the  other  cases  there  is  no 
certainty  that  the  persons  were  really  dead ,  as  any  one 
will  readily  see  by  referring  to  the  accounts  themselves. 
Persons  are  very  frequently  supposed  to  be  dead,  and  are 
sometimes  buried,  when  they  are  only  in  a  swoon.  But 
I  think,  in  the  case  of  Lazarus,  this  could  not  be.  It 
is  not  at  all  probable  that  he  could  lie  in  this  state  four 
days ,  and  in  the  tomb.  I  am  aware  that  thi«  account 


236 


MEMORANDA. 


is  given  more  in  detail  than  that  of  any  other  miracle  in 
the  New  Testament.  Bnt  I  will  ask  any  candid  per¬ 
son,  who  professedly  believes  this  narrative  given  in 
the  writings  of  only  one  man,  and  those  of  doubtful 
authorship,  but  who  finds  it  too  great  a  stretch  of  credu¬ 
lity  to  believe  “modern  miracles  ”  on  the  testimony  of 
a  thousand  living  witnesses, — I  will  ask  such  a  person, 
Could  you  believe  a  fact  similar  to  that  related  in  the 
Gospel  of  John,  if  ten  most  reliable  men  should  declare 
they  saw  it  performed,  f  If  not,  then  may  I  not  infer 
that  you,  with  me,  do  not  believe  this  account?  I 
think  the  other  gospel  writers  did  not  believe  it,  or 
they  would  have  recorded  it.  For,  if  it  took  place, 
they  must  have  known  it,  as  Jesus  was  a  particular 
friend  in  this  family  of  Lazarus.  It  is  a  greater  mira¬ 
cle  than  they  have  mentioned ;  and  I  can  account  for 
their  silence  only  on  the  ground  that  they  never  heard 
the  story,  or  did  not  believe  it.  I  know  not  why  a  big 
story  could  not  grow  up  from  a  small  matter  in  that  age, 
as  well  as  in  the  present  age.  All,  who  have  read  any 
considerable  portion  of  the  church  fathers  know  that 
the  greater  the  story  they  could  tell,  the  better;  and 
who  can  say  how  early  they  began  to  fabricate  them, 
or  when  the  gospel  of  John  was  written? 

The  silence  of  the  other  three  histories,  as  to  this 
greatest  of  all  the  miracles,  looks  rather  suspicious.  It 
can  be  accounted  for  only  in  one  of  three  ways  :  either 
the  writers  did  not  hear  of  the  miracle,  or  they  did  not 
believe  it,  or  they  did  not  think  it  of  sufficient  import¬ 
ance  to  be  recorded. 

The  last  supposition  can  not  be  accepted  ;  for  they  all 
three,  with  John,  record  several  miracles,  which  we 


RAISING  THE  DEAD. 


231 


all  know,  and  which  they  must  have  known,  were  far 
less  important  than  this. 

Either  of  the  others  amounts  to  the  same  thing. 
For,  had  such  a  miracle  as  this  occurred  in  the  presence 
of  so  “many  Jews”  (John  11:  45  and  46),  it  would 
have  been  not  only  extensively  known,  but  well  at¬ 
tested.  This,  and  the  fact  that  Lazarus,  with  his 
family,  were  particular  friends  of  Jesus  and  his  disciples 
(John  11 :  11),  makes  it  certain  that  they  all  would 
have  known  the  fact,  had  it  really  occurred  as  related 
in  the  fourth  gospel.  So,  if  they  heard  but  did  not 
believe  the  story,  having  the  same  means  of  knowing 
the  facts,  we  must  conclude  that  it  was  false.  The 
Jews,  who  did  not  believe  in  Jesus,  might  hear  of  this 
or  any  other  work  of  Jesus,  and  not  believe  it ;  or  they 
might  witness  facts,  and  think  it  a  deception  or  an  im¬ 
posture,  as  many  at  the  present  day,  who  disbelieve 
“spirit  manifestations,”  reject  any  particular  fact, 
though  they  may  have  been  eye-witnesses  to  it.  But 
this  could  not  be  the  case  with  the  disciples  of  Jesus. 
They  would  both  have  known  and  believed  the  fact,  had 
Jesus  raised  Lazarus  to  life,  after  he  had  been  dead  (11  : 
13, 14),  four  days  in  the  tomb.  Since,  then,  we  are  com¬ 
pelled  to  accept  one  of  those  alternatives, — namely, 
that  they  did  not  know ,  or  did  not  believe, — we  must 
conclude  that  the  fact  did  not  occur  as  related. 

This  reasoning  proceeds  on  the  supposition  that  the 
first  three  gospels  were  written  by  the  immediate  disci¬ 
ples  of  Jesus ;  but,  if  they  were  written  by  those  of  a 
later  period,  the  reasoning,  with  a  slight  alteration, 
will  apply  with  equal  force. 

And  again,  as  to  the  miracle  of  a  child  being  bora 


238 


MEMORANDA. 


with  no  natural  father.  IIow  do  we  know  ?  Somebody 
said  so.  Who  said  so  ?  Supposed  to  be  Matthew  and 
Luke !  Who  told  them  ?  Suppose  Paul  told  Luke,  • 
and  somebody  told  Matthew  and  Paul ;  for  neither  of 
these  persons  knew  any  thing  about  the  child  or  its 
mother  till  thirty  years  after  he  was  born.  Suppose, 
then,  the  mother  of  the  child  told  this  story,  for  it  must 
come  to  this  at  last.  Joseph’s  dream  can  not  be  credited 
among  a  people  who  do  not  believe  in  dreams  and 
visions ;  nor  can  any  of  the  spiritual  communications  to 
Mary,  or  any  of  the  parties,  be  relied  upon  by  those 
who  do  not  believe  it  possible  for  spirits  to  communi¬ 
cate  to  mortals.  We  then  have  the  story  reported  to 
ns  at  second-hand,  at  least. 

How,  where  is  the  court,  in.  any  country,  which 
could  accept  such  second-hand  testimony  as  this,  for 
the  most  natural  event?  And  could  the  most  credu¬ 
lous  Christian  judge,  upon  any  bench,  but  smile  with 
pity  upon  the  unfortunate  female  who  should  personally 
give  oath  before  him  that  her  child  had  no  natural 
father,  or  that  an  angel,  or  a  spirit,  had  begotten  him  ; 
and  would  he  not  be  the  more  surprised,  should  she 
solemnly  declare  that  no  less  a  spirit  than  God  himself 
had  done  this  ?  Why  this  goes  beyond  all  the  spirit  inter¬ 
course  of  modern  times  ;  though  there  were  many  simi¬ 
lar  stories  told,  and  believed,  in  those  ancient  times. 
The  people  then  did  not  think  it  at  all  strange  for  the 
gods  to  have  intercourse  with  women  ;  and  it  appears, 
by  the  Old  Testament,  that  Jews  could  credit  such 
stories  as  well  as  the  heathens. — Gen.  4  :  2  and  4. 

I  am  fully  aware  that  those  who  professedly  believe 
these  stories  do  not  receive  them  on  the  flimsy  testi- 


TIIE  LYCEUM. — A  NEW  THIN« 


239 


monv  which  is  given  in  their  support,  but  through 
their  theories  of  “ the  fall”  and  “  the  plan  of  redemp¬ 
tion  ;”  else  they  accept  them  from  tradition  and  habit, 
as  they  do  many  others,  without  the  disposition  or 
courage  to  question  them.  But,  should  we  not  be  cau¬ 
tious  how  we  build  theories  upon  facts  so  poorly  sub¬ 
stantiated  ?  Theories  to  support  the  facts — then  make 
the  facts  support  the  theories  !  and  this  when  both  the 
theories  and  the  facts  are,  in  themselves,  so  monstrous 
and  absurd,  if  not  blasphemous,  that  human  nature 
revolts  at  them ! 


89. 


THE  LYCEUM.— A  NEW  THING  UNDER  THE  SUN. 

New  York,  November  24,  1864. 

Perhaps  I  am  too  enthusiastic  to-day,  but  sincerely 
[  think  that  the  Children’s  Progressive  Lyceum  is 
really  a  “  new  thing  under  the  sun.”  Its  basis  is  in 
the  twofold  organization  of  the  child — the  body  with 
its  functions,  and  the  soul  with  its  intuitions — both 
needing  and  demanding  attention,  education,  and  recre¬ 
ation.  .  .  .  Thousands  of  people  are  superstitious 

about  the  day  called  “  The  Sabbath.”  .  .  .  Sun¬ 

day  is  not  exempt  from  the  operation  of  physical  laws; 
neither  are  the  moral  laws  suspended  between  Mondays 
and  Saturdays.  In  short,  a  child  is  just  the  same 
natural  being  on  Sunday  as  on  every  other  day  of  the 
week  ;  and  the  “  wing  movements,”  and  the  harmoni 


240 


MEMOKANDA. 


ous  “  marchings  with  the  stars  and  stripes,”  in  the  Sun¬ 
day  sessions  of  the  Children’s  Lyceum,  are  introduced 
upon  the  principle  that  there  is  no  difference  in  days 
to  the  body  and  soul  of  a  child  /  and  as  to  men  and 
women,  the  same  principle  will  apply,  for  it  is,  I  be¬ 
lieve,  admitted  that  they  are  hut  “  children  of  a  larger 
growth.”  .  .  .  The  Sunday-Schools  of  orthodox 

establishments  are  universally  distasteful  to  children ; 
because  such  schools — although  conducted  by  very  ex¬ 
cellent  persons,  who  are  moved  by  the  best  inten¬ 
tions — are  founded  upon  false  and  unnatural  doctrines. 
Take  out  of  popular  orthodox  Sunday-Schools  two  in¬ 
fluences,  and  they  would  cease  in  less  than  a  year — first, 
the  social  attractions,  which  are  very  powerful  with 
children ;  and,  second,  the  fascinations  of  the  library, 
full  of  story  books  !  With  these  influences  paramount, 
any  association  of  young  people  is  bound  together 
firmly,  and  will  sail  under  any  flag  of  sectarianism ; 
not  one  in  fifty  of  them  knowing  or  caring  a  particle 
about  the  creed,  and  the  whole  congregation  thinking 
next  to  nothing  about  the  fundamental  ideas  and  car¬ 
dinal  “  points  of  doctrine.”  .  .  .  The  Children’s 

Progressive  Lyceum,  while  it  most  beautifully  provides 
for  the  social  and  literary  wants  of  the  young,  possesses 
inherent  attractions.  It  begins  by  classifying  the  chil¬ 
dren  into  “groups”  with  beautiful  titles.  Over  each 
group  is  an  officer  called  a  “Leader,”  who,  like  the 
childien,  is  provided  with  a  badge  of  beauty  and  sig¬ 
nificance.  The  color  of  each  group  is  unlike  that  of 
every  other;  just  as,  in  the  fields,  every  flower  and  bud 
and  tree  and  stone  is  provided  by  the  Divine  Love  and 
Wisdom  with  adaptations  and  a  color  of  its  own. 


THE  LYCEUM. — A  NEW  THING. 


241 


As  to  the  plan  of  education  :  This  differs  essentially 
from  popular  methods.  We  have  no  text-hooks  nor 
“catechisms”  with  stereotyped  questions  and  answers. 
On  the  contrary,  the  children  in  a  Lyceum  are  “  edu¬ 
cated”  to  think  for  themselves,  and  to  select  their  own 
“questions,”  and  to  bring  on  the  following  Sunday 
their  own  “  answers.”  How  beautifully  and  perfectly 
this  plan  works,  can  be  illustrated  by  the  school  better 
than  described  in  words.  The  plan  will,  I  am  quite 
sure,  receive  the  approbation  of  every  Avise  and  sincere 
lover  of  children  and  humanity.  .  .  .  The  Lyceum 

Manual  contains  hymns,  songs,  impressive  silver-chain 
recitations,  &c.  The  children  learn  to  sing  the  songs 
of  Progress,  to  chant  the  hymns  of  the  Summer  Land, 
and  to  recite  the  holiest  sentiments  of  thanksgiving  and 
praise.  .  .  .  Last  Spring,  while  recovering  from  a 

brief  illness,  the  feeling  came  upon  me  that  I  might 
contribute  at  least  one  song  to  the  music  of  childhood. 
I  went  directly  to  writing ;  and  as  it  was  “my  first.” 
and  in  all  probability  will  be  “  my  last,”  I  will  make 
a  note  of  it  right  here: — 

The  sun  is  bright,  and  its  golden  light 
Is  filling  the  world  with  power; 

The  song-birds  fly  through  the  kindling  sky, 

And  music  floods  the  hour. 

This  gladsome  life,  when  free  from  strife, 

Shall  fill  our  hearts  with  glee, 

And  falling  showers  on  fields  and  flowers 
Shall  make  us  happy  and  free. 

Ohoeus  :  Oh!  let  us  drink  from  Nature’s  fount, 

Whence  love  and  beauty  flow ; 

Oh,  let  us  walk  in  Wisdom’s  ways, 

Where  all  the  angels  go. 


11 


2  ±2 


MEMORANDA. 


T1  ere  are  golden  beams  in  laughing  streams, 
And  music  in  the  trees  ; 

There  are  heavenly  dyes  and  love-lit  eyes, 
And  whisperings  in  the  breeze. 

The  beautiful  songs  of  unseen  throngs 
O’erflow  this  world  of  ours, 

And  loving  hands  from  angel-lands 
Bedeck  our  paths  with  flowers. 

There  is  no  death !  for  the  Father’s  breath 
Filleth  our  hearts  with  youth ; 

And  a  heavenly  wave  destroys  the  grave 
For  him  who  loveth  the  truth. 

The  earth  is  singing,  and  time  is  winging 
Each  to  another  sea ; 

Then  let  us  love  the  truths  above 
That  make  us  happy  and  free. 


90. 

WHAT  A  SPIRIT  THINKS  ON  THE  RIGHTS  OF  PROPERTY. 

New  York,  November  25,  1864. 

About  five  years  ago,  at  a  hotel  in  Buffalo,  New 
York,  I  conversed  an  hour  or  so  with  a  retired  mer¬ 
chant  on  the  subject  of  Labor,  Poverty,  Riches, 
Monopoly,  &c.  He  was  a  violent  opponent  of  Charles 
Fourier  and  Albert  Brisbane,  and  attributed  their  public 
efforts  for  “  Association  ”  to  an  insane  wish  to  disturb 
and  reconstruct  the  natural  order  of  human  society. 
Seeing  that  no  impression  could  be  made  upon  his  mind 
in  the  direction  of  associated  labor,  &c.,  I  said :  “  Will 
you  promise  me  to  take  a  look  into  this  subject  as  soon 


THE  EIGHT  OF  PKOPERTY. 


243 


as  you  can  after  you  pass  through  death  ?”  He  was 
ranch  amused,  but  replied:  “  Yes,  I’ll  study  up  every 
thing  when  I  become  one  of  your  spirits.”  Then  1 
added :  “  Will  you,  as  soon  as  you  find  opportunity, 
come  to  me  with  your  post-mortem  opinion  on  the  sub¬ 
ject  of  this  conversation  ?”  He  laughingly  promised 
that  “  he  would,”  and  thereupon  in  friendship  we  sepa¬ 
rated.  That  was  in  1859 . To-day,  as  I 

was  contemplatively  walking  in  one  of  the  shady  retreats 
in  Central  Park,  this  man  (in  the  spirit  body  !)  came  to 
me,  announced  his  name,  refreshed  my  memory  con¬ 
cerning  the  conversation  in  Buffalo,  his  promise,  and 
his  readiness  to  express  his  new  convictions.* 

At  once,  I  asked:  “Have  you  yet  met  Fourier?” 
He  replied  that  he  had  not ;  but  now  lie  fully  accepted, 
“  as  truth,  Fourier’s  fundamental  principle  of  the 
Right  of  Property.” 

I  asked  him  kindly  to  “  define  it  to  me.”  And  he 
substantially  answered  : — 

“Every  individual  possesses,  legitimately,  the  thing  which  his 
labor,  his  intelligence  (or  more  generally),  his  activity  has 
created.  This  principle  is  incontestible,  and  contains  expressly  an 
acknowledgment  of  the  right  of  all  to  the  soil.  For  as  the  soil 
has  not  been  created  by  man,  it  follows  from  this  fundamental 
principle  of  property,  that  it  can  not  belong  to  any  small  portion 
of  the  human  race,  who  have  created  it  by  their  activity.  Let  us 
then  conclude  that  the  true  theory  of  property  is  founded  on  the 
*  creation  of  the  thing  possessed.'  " 

“  Can  you,”  I  inquired,  “  give  me  what  you  now 
think  is  the  cause  of  poverty  ?” 

*  I  had  not  heard  of  the  merchant’s  decease  at  that  time,  and  was 
naturally  somewhat  surprised,  but  subsequently  learned  that  he  died 
with  cholera  two  years  before  this  interview. 


244 


MEMORANDA. 


“  On  all  these  subjects,”  he  answered,  “  I  have 
entirely  new  views,”  and  in  substance  he  thus  pro 
ceeded  : — 

“  The  cause  of  poverty  is  ignorance,  disunion,  and  monopoly. 
The  cause  of  monopoly  is  money,  and  love  of  power.  Money  is 
used  to  monopolize  the  soil  and  other  necessaries  of  life  which 
make  men  rich.  In  ages  past,  when  all  had  to  work  to  provide 
themselves  with  the  necessaries  of  life,  a  few  idle  ones  got  to¬ 
gether  and  said  to  themselves — ‘  How  can  we  get  all  the  good 
things  we  want,  and  do  no  work?’ 

“  ‘I  have  it,’  says  one  of  them  ;  ‘  I  will  get  gold  and  mold  it 
into  beautiful  forms,  which  will  please  the  multitude.  I  have 
seen  some  of  them  admire  gold  as  it  lies  in  the  mine.  It  is  of  no 
use  now,  but  we  will  make  it  into  glittering  coin,  and  to  our  ad¬ 
vantage.  It  has  been  in  the  earth  immured  for  ages,  while  by  its 
side  iron  has  been  brought  forth  and  made  useful  to  man ;  and 
now  gold  shall  be  made  also  useful.’ 

“They  then  took  the  beautiful  stuff  from  the  mine,  and  made 
it  into  glittering  coin.  They  showed  it  to  the  people. 

“  ‘  Give  us  that,’  said  they. 

“  ‘  We  will,  if  you  will  give  us  bread,  clothes,  and  let  us  lie  in 
your  bouses.’ 

“  ‘  We  will,’  they  answered.  And  then  was  given  birth  a  curse 
that  is  filling  the  world  with  want  and  misery.  It  is  money  that 
enables  those  who  do  nothing  to  extract  the  comforts  of  life  from 
those  who  make  all  the  necessaries  of  life.  To  illustrate :  If  I 
should  go  to  California  and  get  gold  from  the  mines,  and  bring  it 
into  society,  and  buy  a  farm,  food,  clothing,  &c.,  what  would  I 
give  in  exchange  for  those  things  ?  Why,  for  the  farm  I  would 
give  something  that  was  earth  itself;  and  for  the  food  give 
something  that  has  not  made  any  food,  and  never  will.  I  buy 
clothes  with  it,  but  I  do  not  give  the  tailor  any  food  or  clothes,  or 
any  of  the  comforts  of  life  in  return;  I  only  give  him  some  Cali¬ 
fornia  gold  that  has  lain  there  a  long  time  doing  nothing,  and 
when  brought  forth  and  made  into  money,  it  is  worth  nothing; 
because  it  is  doing  nothing.  I  wish  I  could  say  that  it  has  done 


THE  RIGHT  OF  PROPERTY. 


245 


nothing.  It  has  done  much  ;  it  has  bought  up  the  soil  and  made 
a  world  full  of  landlords  and  tenants;  it  has  bought  up  food,  and 
clothing,  and  left  man  to  go  through  the  world  naked,  and  starv¬ 
ing.  when  the  world  was  full  of  food  and  clothing.  It  buys  men 
in  high  and  low  places.  It  bought  Judas;  it  bought  Arnold  ;  it 
has  made  chattel  slavery  by  buying  up  our  brother  man,  and 
making  him  as  a  beast  of  burden. 

“  ‘  Now,  these  are  my  new  conclusions :  To  do  away  with 
poverty  on  earth,  let  those  that  labor,  unite  and  work  for  each 
other  only.  Let  a  certain  number  in  every  community  unite  their 
labor  and  interests;  let  them  create  the  necessaries  of  life,  and 
hold  them  in  common,  and  deposit  them  in  some  convenient 
place,  and  when  any  member  wants  let  him  go  to  the  place  of 
deposit  and  get  what  he  wants  without  money  and  without  price  ! 
God  has  given  the  earth,  not  to  man,  or  men,  but  to  humanity  ; 
because  humanity  is  dependent  on  her  for  life  as  much  as  they  are 
on  the  air  we  breathe,  or  the  water  we  drink.  Therefore,  govern¬ 
ments  must  give  you  the  land,  and  then  from  its  bosom  take  the 
raw  materials,  ana  <brm  all  the  necessaries  of  life.  The  working 
classes  know  how  to  make  every  thing.  Do  they  not  build  all 
the  houses,  make  all  the  clothing,  and  prepare  all  the  food  ?  Do 
they  not  build  all  the  ships  ‘that  traverse  the  waters  like  things 
of  life,’  that  come  and  go  to  all  parts  of  the  world,  and  distribute 
the  comforts  of  life  to  all  nations?  Yes,  it  is  you  that  do  every 
thing?  Then,  why  should  you  longer  be  slaves,  when  you  know 
so  much  and  are  so  strong  ?  Come  out  of  the  institutions  that 
you  are  in,  and  build  up  new  ones  that  will  make  you  independent, 
free,  and  happy.  Arise,  and  take  land,  and  build  yourselves 
houses — not  huts,  but  splendid  mansions.  Furnish  them  with  the 
comfortable,  the  useful,  and  beautiful.  Shear  your  sheep ;  gather 
your  flax;  and  cotton;  and  set  your  spinning-jenny  in  motion; 
and  make  such  clothing  as  will  adorn  and  comfort  your  bodies 
and  homes.  Plow  your  fields,  sow  your  grain,  and  when  the 
harvest  comes,  gather  from  the  earth  the  food  you  want.  Build 
ships  and  carry  your  surplus  products  to  other  nations  in  exchange 
for  such  things  as  you  may  want.  Establish  schools,  and 
colleges,  and  halls  of  science,  and  libraries,  with  useful  books  in 


MEMOKANDA. 


246 

them.  Make  pleasure-grounds  and  pleasure-houses.  In  a  word, 
make  all  those  things  that  will  elevate  you  and  make  you  happy. 
There  is  an  abundance  of  material  scattered  over  the  earth  to  supply 
all  your  wants.  Be  wise ;  unite  ;  and  become  rich  by  the  union  of 
labor.  The  poor  shall  cease  out  of  the  land.  Association  will 
make  you  rich.  Isolation  will  keep  you  poor.  The  past  has 
been  Isolation  ;  the  effect  has  been  discord,  poverty,  vice,  misery, 
and  slavery.  The  future  will  be  Association :  the  effect  will  be 
harmony,  plenty,  purity,  happiness,  and  liberty.” 

The  foregoing  is  the  substance  of  what  the  “  mer¬ 
chant  ”  said,  who  had  now  “  retired  ”  from  the  earth 
not  only,  hut  also  from  all  his  selfishness  regarding 
property. 


91. 


MIND  YOUR  OWN  BUSINESS. 

New  York,  November  26,  1864. 

Maky  and  I  have  been  freely  and  joyously  mingling 
with  the  Lyceum  children  to-day.  ...  Is  there 
any  thing  more  beautiful  than  a  beautiful  soul  in  a 
beautiful  form  ?  .  .  .  The  order  of  thought,  feel¬ 

ing,  and  will  is  developed  extremely  slow  in  a  child; 
because  it  is  spirit  power ,  and  not  the  number  of  years 
and  sensations,  that  constitutes  the  cause  of  orderly 
development.  .  .  .  This  morning  I  was  reminded 

that  there  are  certain  persons  who  seem  only  qualified 
to  detect  vices  in  others;  while  different  minds  seem 
only  to  see  virtues.  .  .  .  “  Mind  your  own  busi¬ 

ness,”  is  a  proverb  often  used  and  seldom  applied.  .  .  . 
In  our  national  character,  which  is  not  yet  formed, 


TIIE  TRUE  MARRIAGE. 


247 


there  are  traits  of  moral  laxity,  selfishness,  fickle- 
hearteduess,  with  much  benevolence  and  sympathy  for 
suffering.  .  .  .  Paul,  in  his  Epistle  to  the  Phi- 

lippians  (chap.  ii.  v.  4),  said  :  “  Look  not  every  man  on 
Ids  own  things,  but  every  man  also  on  the  things  of 
others.”  To  follow  this  rule  one  can  not  exclusively 
“  mind  his  own  business.”  A  little  mind,  having 
found  peace  in  God,  shrivels  and  shuts  itself  up  from 
the  world.  A  great  mind,  having  strengthened  its  life 
in  God’s,  unfolds  and  strives  to  win  the  world  over  to 
His  kingdom.  .  .  .  How  does  a  little  picture  look 

in  an  enormous  frame  ?  How  looks  a  little  thought  in 
an  immense  book  ?  How  looks  a  little  soul  in  a  giant 
body  ?  .  .  .  Let  us  have  proportion — balance,  har¬ 

mony  !  This  is  the  central  idea  of  our  new  Religion. 
Who  wonders  that  it  is  beloved  by  children ;  by  the 
aspiring;  and  by  angel-natures  throughout  the  uni¬ 
verse  % 


93. 

THE  ONE  ONLY  AND  TRUE  MARRIAGE. 

New  York,  November  28,  1864. 

This  morning  the  mail  brought  a  letter  full  of  ques¬ 
tions.  I  have  little  time  to  give  to  these  numerous 
daily  arrivals.  There  is  one  query  which,  I  think,  I 
have  answered  a  thousand  and  one  times,  namely  : 

Mr.  Davis  : — In  the  light  of  your  inspiration  is  ‘free 
love’  an  inheritance  of  Spiritualism,  or  is  it  an  inci* 
dent  which  time  and  truth  will  divest  it  of?” 


248 


MEMORANDA. 


Now,  if  I  do  not  once  more  answer,  tlie  correspond 
ent  will  say,  “Ah,  it’s  just  as  I  have  supposed.  1 
wrote  to  Mr.  Davis,  asking  r»  plain,  civil  question.  He 
don't  answer  me ;  therefore,  ‘  silence  gives  consent 
and  I  conclude  that  Spiritualism  is  the  father  of  Free 
Loveism,  and  I  shall  have  henceforth  nothing  to  do 
with  it.”  To  promote  truth  in  his  mind  I  thus  replied  : 
Love  controlled  alone  by  Wisdom — free  from  the 
iniquities  of  passion,  free  from  the  misdirections  of 
sensuality,  free  from  the  extremes  of  blood,  free  from 
the  inversions  of  disease — such  love  is  an  “inherit¬ 
ance  ”  of  Spiritualism.  The  wise  love  of  the  New 
Dispensation  is  unselfish— fraternal,  unbounded,  uni¬ 
versal.  Behold  the  love  of  flower  for  flower ;  so  pure 
hearts  beat  responsive  and  free. 

But  that  misery-promoting  abuse  of  the  conjugal  re¬ 
lation,  called  by  us  free-passionism,  is  an  “incident” 
to  the  development  of  mankind  out  of  blood  into 
spirit — out  of  materialism  into  spirituality — out  of 
prostitution  into  the  divine  order  of  society,  when  men 
and  women  will  be  but  little  lower  than  the  angels. 
In  plainer  language :  There  is  but  one  true  marriage, 
namely :  the  marriage  of  the  right  irian  with  the  right 
woman ,  forever  !  The  state  of  singleness  is  unnatural. 
No  woman,  no  man,  is  naturally  a  celibate.  “  Union  ” 
is  the  universal  decree  of  Father  God  and  Mother  Na¬ 
ture.  Dr.  Johnson  gives  the  philosophy  of  marriage 
in  a  few  words: — “A  married  man,”  says  he,  “has 
many  cares  ;  but  a  bachelor  has  no  pleasures.  Cutting 
himself  off  from  life’s  purest  and  most  exquisite  enjoy¬ 
ments  for  fear  of  some  trifling  annoyance,  he  emulates 
the  sagacity  of  the  wiseacre,  who  amputates  his  leg  to 


ORTHODOX  CHURCn  SYSTEM. 


219 


secure  himself  from  corns.'1  But  liarmonial  philoso¬ 
phers  will  study  to  secure  the  true  marriage  first. 


93. 


THE  ORTHODOX  CHURCH  SYSTEM  FINANCIALLY  CON¬ 
SIDERED. 

New  York,  November  30,  1864. 

Few  considerations  (says  a  writer)  are  better  calcu¬ 
lated  to  awaken  attention,  at  this  time,  than  those  of  a 
monetary  character.  It  may  therefore  be  well  to  ex¬ 
amine  the  “  Financial  aspects  of  Christianity.” 

It  has  been  conclusively  demonstrated,  that  it  costs 
the  nation  three  hundred  millions  of  dollars  to  keep  the 
machinery  of  the  church  in  operation  !  Now  let  us  see 
what  it  costs  the  State  of  New  York.  By  the  census 
of  1S55,  it  appears  that  the  amount  of  church  property 
in  the  State  is  $31,480,000 !  The  salaries  paid  to  the 
clergymen  of  the  State,  amounted  to  $2,400,000  annu¬ 
ally  !  To  this  sum  add  the  income  from  the  church 
property,  at  seven  per  cent,  interest,  which  amounts  to 
$2,200,000,  and  we  have  an  annual  expense  to  the  State 
o i  four  million  six  hundred  thousand  dollars  !  !  This 
is  for  the  support  of  pulpits  alone.  The  additional  cost 
of  Sunday-Schools,  Bible  and  Tract  Societies,  is  not  so 
easily  determined,  though  some  idea  of  the  expense  in¬ 
curred  by  the  two  latter,  may  be  gained  by  the  follow¬ 
ing  statements  taken  from  the  reports  of  the  societies. 

“  The  American  Tract  Society  has,  since  its  founda¬ 
tion,  thirty-one  years  ago,  issued  publications  to  the 
n* 


250 


MEMORANDA. 


number  of  one  hundred  and  eighty-five  million,  and 
expended  $5,000,000  !  Eight  million  families  have  beeu 
visited,  nearly  five  million  books  sold,  and  one  and 
a  quarter  million  given  away.  Last  year  the  Society 
employed  seven  hundred  colporteurs,  and  expended 
nearly  half  a  million  dollars !” 

“  The  American  Bible  Society  has,  during  the  forty 
years  of  its  operation,  issued  over  eleven  million  Bibles 
and  Testaments !  The  receipts  last  year  amounted 
to  almost  four  hundred  thousand  dollars !” 

In  addition  to  these,  there  are,  in  this  State  alone, 
some  sixty  religious  papers  and  periodicals,  circulating 
thousands  of  pages  of  religious  reading  of  a  Christian 
character. 

Now  what  is  the  success  of  the  Christian  system  in 
this  State,  with  all  these  appliances  and  this  immense 
expenditure  of  wealth  ?  Why,  just  this :  about  one- 
third  of  the  people  are  induced  to  attend  church  !  and 
only  one-fifth  become  church  members !  It  is  acknowl¬ 
edged  that  a  large  number  of  the  church  members  are 
not  experimentally  acquainted  with  the  religion  they 
profess.  If  so,  how  small  a  share  of  the  people  of  the 
State  are  Christianized,  notwithstanding  the  efforts  of 
five  or  six  thousand  clergymen,  and  the  vast  sums  ex¬ 
pended. 

To  show  the  value  of  the  money  thus  annually  squan¬ 
dered,  let  us  see  what  might  be  done  with  it,  if  differ¬ 
ently  appropriated.  First,  then,  the  sum  paid  for  “pul 
pits  and  pulpit  preaching,”  would  comfortably  support 
all  the  deaf,  dumb,  blind,  insane,  and  idiotic  in  the 
State — over  seven  thousand  persons  in  all ;  would  pro¬ 
vide  for  our  ten  thousand  paupers,  and  pay  the  salaries 


ORTHODOX  CHURCH  SYSTEM. 


251 


of  the  teachers  of  all  the  common  schools !  Or,  omitting 
the  charities,  the  sum  would  defray  the  expense  of  our 
entire  common  school  system— pay  the  salaries  of  teach¬ 
ers,  and  leave  a  sum  for  the  purchase  of  library,  appa¬ 
ratus,  &c.,  equal  to  nearly  two  hundred  dollars  for  each 
district  every  year !  Think  you,  intelligent  reader,  this 
sum  judiciously  applied,  would  not  prove  of  greater 
benefit,  physically  and  spiritually,  to  our  citizens  than 
the  one  hundred  or  one  hundred  and  fifty  sermons 
preached  from  each  of  the  five  thousand  pulpits  ? 

The  first  cost  of  the  church  edifices  of  the  State  was 
six  times  that  of  all  the  school-houses,  so  that  the  same 
capital  would  rebuild  all  the  school-houses  at  double 
the  original  cost,  and  erect  a  “  public  hall  ”  in  every 
village  and  settlement,  at  an  average  cost  of  over  lour 
thousand  dollars!  Only  think  of  it!  For  the  sum 
which  we  have  paid  for  the  “  houses  of  God,”  which 
are  almost  universally  closed  to  all  purposes  of  human 
good— not  even  opened  for  anti-slavery  and  temper¬ 
ance  lectures,  and  pertinaciously  shut  against  all  lec¬ 
tures  upon  man  or  Nature — for  this  sum  expended  for 
these  edifices — appropriated  to  the  use,  every  seventh 
day,  of  the  “  Unknown  God  ”  who  is  there  “  ignorantly 
worshiped,”  we  might  have  built  a  splendid  school- 
house  in  every  district,  and  erected  in  every  desired 
locality  a  spacious  and  elegant  “  public  hall  ”  for  a 
“People’s  Lyceum,”  where  all  the  people  could  every 
day  learn  more  of  themselves,  of  nature,  and  “Nature’s 
God,”  and  thus  know  how  to  improve  themselves,  enjoy 
nature,  and  glorify  God. 

Then  for  the  sum  paid  to  the  clergy  for  interpreting 
the  Bible,  for  our  own  individual  understanding  of 


252 


MEMORANDA. 


which — not  theirs — are  we  to  be  held  responsible  , 
every  school-house  could  be  supplied  with  an  abundant 
library,  and  every  “  public  hall  ”  with  a  reading-room, 
library,  apparatus,  piano,  and  other  articles  for  amuse¬ 
ment  and  instruction.  The  provision  would  be  ample, 
leaving  a  goodly  sum  to  pay  qualified  lecturers  from  a 
distance  for  their  services.  What  a  dead  loss  is  there 
to  society  every  year !  How  great  a  good  do  we  sur¬ 
render  for  an  insignificant  benefit ! 

Christian  professors  are  accustomed  to  undervalue  all 
these  instrumentalities  to  which  I  have  alluded,  and 
award  credit  to  the  “  grace  of  God  ”  for  the  few  con¬ 
veniences  and  limited  accessions  to  the  church  in  con¬ 
sequence  thereof.  But  I  venture  the  assertion  that, 
could  all  the  thirty  thousand  pulpits  of  the  land  be  oc¬ 
cupied  by  Harmonial  teachers,  all  the  religious  papers 
be  put  under  the  control  of  Harmonial  minds,  the  in¬ 
comes  of  the  Bible  and  Tract  Societies  be  expended  in 
publishing  Harmonial  works  for  gratuitous  distribution, 
and  last,  but  not  least,  could  all  the  Sunday-Schools  be 
appropriated  to  the  promulgation  of  the  truth  as  it  is 
in  the  “  Harmonial  Philosophy,”  not  five  years  would 
elapse  before  there  would  be  a  moral  revolution  in  this 
country  unprecedented  in  history  !  The  immortal  life 
would  become  an  acknowledged  fact,  intereoui’se  with 
the  spirit  world  would  be  universally  demonstrated  as 
a  verity,  and  liberty  be  proclaimed  over  all  the  land ! 
The  lawTs  of  individual  harmony  being  early  taught 
and  understood,  intemperance  and  licentiousness  would 
diminish  and  public  morals  and  private  virtue  rapidly 
improve.  Once  let  mankind  understand  the  laws  of 
their  being,  and  learn  to  know  the  inevitable  conse- 


ORTHODOX  CHURCH  SYSTKM. 


253 


quences  of  wrong  doing,  and  banish  the  idea  of  a  way 
of  escape  from  the  penalties  of  sin,  and  an  effect,  blessed 
and  glorious  to  every  friend  of  goodness,  would  follow 
as  speedily  and  certainly  as  do  life  and  vegetation  obey 
the  magnetic  influence  of  the  balmy  air  and  bright  sun¬ 
light  of  early  Spring. 

The  light  of  truth  has  yet  scarcely  penetrated  the 
clouds  of  superstition  which  have  been  hanging  over 
us  from  man’s  earliest  infancy ;  and  it  is  not  strange 
that  men  should  wander  from  the  path  of  true  wisdom, 
when  their  highest  teachings  have  been  mythological 
ideas  too  crude  and  absurd  for  intelligent  credence. 

One  thought  more  and  I  have  done  :  We  all  know 
how  zealous  the  Catholic  Church,  and  especially  the 
priesthood,  is  to  secure  the  early  training  of  the 
young.  Give  them  control  of  the  schools,  and  they 
ask  but  little  more.  The  Protestant  Church  manifests 
the  same  desire,  and  for  the  same  reasons.  They  both 
understand  the  importance  of  bringing  their  religious 
influences  to  bear  upon  the  susceptible  minds  of  chil¬ 
dren  and  youth.  Let  men  grow  up  to  years  of  mature 
judgment  and  discernment,  without  prejudice,  unbiased 
for  or  against  Christianity,  and  not  one  in  ten  could  be 
brought  into  the  Church.  The  mass  of  Christians  are 
such,  in  fact,  from  their  youth  up.  This  is  a  truth 
acknowleged  by  the  best  orthodox  authority. 

I  have  before  me  1,4  The  Family  Christian  Almanac 
for  1838,”  published  by  the  American  Tract  Society, 
which  indorses  the  following  statement  of  Dr.  Spence  : 
“  Make  up  a  congregation  of  a  thousand.  Christians. 
Divide  them  into  five  classes,  according  to  the  ages  at 
which  they  became  Christians.  Then  count  each  of 


254 


MEMOKAJSTDA. 


the  five  classes  separately.  Of  your  thousand  Chris¬ 
tians,  there  were  hopefully  converted  under  twenty 
years  of  age,  548 ;  between  twenty  and  thirty  years  of 
age,  337 ;  between  thirty  and  forty,  86 ;  between  forty 
and  fifty,  11 ;  between  fifty  and  sixty,  3 ;  between 
sixty  and  seventy,  1.” 

So,  then,  by  their  own  showing,  more  than  half  of 
the  hopeful  converts  to  our  churches,  are  made  before 
the  subjects  have  arrived  at  an  age  sufficient  to  render 
them  capable  of  understanding  what  they  accept  as 
true.  Three-tenths  are  converted  between  the  ages  of 
twenty  and  thirty,  and  only  one-tenth  after  they  have 
arrived  at  thirty  years  of  age  !  What  a  commentaiy 
upon  the  popular  system  of  religious  teaching ! 

Early  impressions  are  lasting,  and  it  is  not  strange 
that  those  who,  in  their  childhood  and  youth,  when 
the  character  is  being  formed,  are  completely  enveloped 
in  orthodoxy,  should,  as  they  grow  up,  pass  into  the 
Church  and  become  as  rigid  and  dogmatic  as  the  most 
bigoted.  It  is  a  well-known  fact,  with  rare  exceptions, 
that  the  persons  who  embrace  Christianity  at  an  ad¬ 
vanced  period  of  life,  and  are  very  devoted  to  their 
faith,  zealous  and  sincere,  are  persons  of  weak  minds. 
The  “great  lights”  of  the  so-called  Christian  Church, 
are  those  who  imbibed  Christianity  with  their  mother’s 
milk. 

True  it  is  that,  to-day,  the  popular  sentiment  is  on  the 
side  of  the  Church.  Not  only  so,  but  the  affairs  of  the 
Church  are  completely  interwoven  with  the  business 
and  commercial  interests  of  the  country,  so  that  one 
hazards  not  only  reputation,  but  business  prosperity, 
employment,  and  daily  bread  even,  by  “  denying  the 


ORTHODOX  CHURCH  SYSTEM. 


255 


faith  ”  of  his  fathers.  Who  may  tell  the  number  in¬ 
fluenced  by  considerations  such  as  these  to  attach  them¬ 
selves  to  a  popular  church,  with  powerful  advantages 
of  a  pecuniary  character ! 

The  principal  accession  to  the  orthodox  churches  are 
those  who  drift  with  the  current.  The  merchant,  me¬ 
chanic,  or  physician  soon  finds  that  he  must  attend 
church  to  secure  the  support  of  its  members.  And 
a  perfect  success  requires,  in  most  communities,  that 
he  become  a  member  himself.  IIow  easy,  therefore, 
it  is  for  one  desirous  of  business  prosperity,  to  accustom 
himself  to  a  regular  attendance  at  church,  and,  ere 
long,  to  take  advantage  of  a  little  revival  of  religion, 
to  take  sides  with  the  Church.  Such  a  course  almost 
inevitably  secures  a  “  living  business.” 

The  day  has  gone  by  when,  to  profess  Christianity 
involved  the  burden  of  the  “  Cross.”  It  is  decidedly 
the  easiest  course  to  take.  The  Martyrs  are  those  who 
brave  the  popular  sentiment  in  religious  matters.  To 
practice  in  conformity  to  the  example  of  Jesus  is  quite 
another  thing  from  the  “  profession  of  religion,”  and 
the  two  are  not  necessarily  at  all  connected. 

The  great  majority  of  church-members  furnish  no 
distinctive  evidence  of  their  peculiar  “separation  from 
the  world.” 

Who  can  tell,  upon  taking  up  a  residence  in  any 
place,  what  persons  are  Christians  by  profession,  and 
what  are  not?  Will  he  find  the  “professors”  any  less 
close  in  driving  a  bargain  ?  Will  he  find  them  any  more 
benevolent  to  the  poor?  Will  he  find  them  ^-chewing 
the  filthy  weed  tobacco,  or  chewing  it?  Will  he  find 
them  total  abstainers  from  drinking  beer  and  hot 


256 


MEMORANDA. 


whisky  ?  Will  he  find  them  members  of  the  various 
reform  societies,  or  conservative  laggards  in  every 
question  of  human  good?  Will  he  find  them  warning 
sinners,  who  they  pretend  to  believe  are  bound  for  hell 
- — to  repent  and  “  flee  the  wrath  to  come,”  or  daily  as¬ 
sociating  with  them  without  one  effort  to  reform  them  ? 
My  own  observation  teaches  me  that  these  latter  con¬ 
clusions  are  correct  ones.  Do  our  orthodox  friends 
really  believe  all  their  creeds  include  ?  If  so  can  they 
explain  their  remissness  in  personal  efforts  for  the  “  sal¬ 
vation  of  souls  ?” 

From  such  a  Church  system  as  I  have  here  faithfully 
pictured,  to  the  inviting  acclivities  of  “  the  better  way,” 
may  we  all  make  swift  Progress. 


94. 


CHILDREN  AND  FOOLS  SPEAK  THE  TRUTH. 

New  York,  December  3,  1864. 

There  is  a  good  deal  of  bad  feeling  in  the  city  pul¬ 
pits  against  dramatic  and  kindred  amusements.  Why 
do  the  ministers  of  the  Church  consider  theaters  so  in¬ 
jurious  ?  Is  it  because  theaters  compete  with  the 
Church  ?  Is  there  such  a  thing  as  “professional  envy  ?” 
.  .  .  I  sometimes  think  that  there  is  a  dead,  dog¬ 

matical  virtue  in  society,  as  there  is  a  dead,  dogmatical 
religion  in  the  creeds.  .  .  .  “  Children  and  fools 

speak  the  truth,”  is  an  old  proverb ;  but  the  truly  wise 
speak  the  truth  too ;  the  former  speak  it  unconsciously 
or  innocently — the  latter,  because  they  know  it  and 


EVIL  MARRIAGES. 


257 


worship  it.  .  .  .  Do  not  seek  the  means  ;  f  educa¬ 

tion  in  far  distant  parts  of  the  world :  for  all  around 
thee  lie  the  objects  of  true  education  and  development. 
.  .  .  Every  moment,  in  the  casual  chain  of  life,  do 

your  highest  duty.  Fill  up  every  moment  with  good 
thoughts,  good  sentiments,  and  good  deeds,  and  thus 
you  will  advance  healthily  in  both  body  and  mind. 

.  .  When  the  mind  elevates  itself  to  higher 

thoughts  and  purposes,  all  forms  and  uses  receive  an 
inner  and  more  profound  signification.  All  life,  too, 
receives  a  deeper  and  holier  explanation.  The  exterior 
world  becomes  full  of  divinity  from  the  interior  world. 
.  .  .  To  observe  and  examine  and  advance  is  our 

first  and  eternal  right ;  not  to  mimic,  aud  repeat,  and 
follow  fashion,  as  monkeys  do.  .  .  .  “Yea,  yea, 

nay,  nay,”  are  words  which  do  not  lead  into  heaven ; 
but  they  do  lead  to  the  door  of  what  is  truly  sincere 
and  simple. 


95. 


THE  EFFECTS  OF  EVIL  MARRIAGES. 

New  York,  December  12,  1864. 

The  newspapers  of  the  city  and  country  insist  that 
all  conjugal  infidelity  is  attributable  to  the  teachings 
of  Spiritualism.  ...  I  wonder  whether  these  jour¬ 
nals,  mostly  religious ,  of  the  orthodox  stamp,  expect  to 
bring  “  the  kingdom  of  heaven  on  earth  ”  by  promul¬ 
gating  falsehoods?  In  the  doctrines  of  Spiritualists  we 
find  “the  germ  of  thoughts  that  will  revc  'utionize  the 


258 


MEMOKAJSTDA. 


world.”  For  as  surely  as  there  is  a  God  of  harmony  in 
the  universe,  so  surely  will  woman  one  day  become  the 
acknowledged  equal  and  co-worker  of  man,  in  every 
department  of  life;  and  vet  be  more  truly  gentle  and 
affectionate  than  she  now  is. 

On  the  surface  of  society,  and  seemingly  often  at  its 
heart,  we  find  corruption,  and  injustice,  and  tyranny, 
festering  and  eating  away,  as  it  were,  the  very  life  that 
is  within ;  yet  we  see  at  the  same  time  influences  far 
different  in  their  nature  at  work,  to  right  these  wrongs, 
to  overthrow  injustice  and  selfishness  and  crime,  and  to 
bring  about  more  and  more  a  condition  of  things  where 
justice,  fraternal  love,  and  virtue  shall  prevail  and  direct 
the  affairs  of  men.  Let  there  be  ever  so  little  leaven  of 
truth  and  justice  in  a  cause,  and  let  men  only  feel  and 
know  it,  that  cause  will  grow  and  brave  the  deadliest 
opposition ;  to  the  strength  of  truth  will  be  added  the 
strength  of  numbers,  and  by-and-by  the  nations  will  be 
found  on  its  side,  lifted  to  a  higher  and  nobler  con¬ 
sciousness  of  life,  by  virtue  of  the  sacred  principles 
which  they  have  espoused.  It  is  only  men  who  are 
bound  up  in  creeds,  and  adapt  them  to  the  selfish 
promptings  of  social  and  political  atheism,  who  doubt 
or  deny  the  divinity  in  human  nature.  lie  who  is 
truthful  and  free,  and  everywhere  carries  with  him  a 
heart  of  love  and  kindness,  measures  man,  not  by  the 
length  of  his  creed,  but  by  the  life  within  and  its  exter¬ 
nal  manifestation.  He  weighs  circumstances,  opportu 
nities,  obstacles  of  ignorance,  of  social  position,  of 
inherited  tendencies,  and  ever  finds  the  God  within, 
however  feebly  and  within  however  great  uncertainty 
of  victory  in  the  short  period  of  earthly  life,  struggling 


EVIL  MARRIAGES. 


259 


to  the  light.  In  some  nook  or  corner  of  the  spirit,  un¬ 
seen  by  the  superficial  and  thoughtless,  he  beholds  love 
and  beauty  that  are  immortal  and  divine.  And  whether 
the  victory  and  the  reconciliation  of  life  be  achieved 
here  or  hereafter,  this  truthful  searcher  beholds  God 
present  in  each  soul — present  now,  present  for  ever. 

What,  then,  with  this  estimate  of  woman's  nature 
and  of  man's  nature,  are  law-makers  and  law-executors 
to  do  with  cases  of  “  separation,”  with  the  instances  of 
heart-breaking  “estrangements,”  with  the  “  murders,” 
“suicides,”  “infanticides,”  “elopements,”  &c.,  &c., 
which  occur  every  day,  in  all  countries  the  same, 
whether  “divorces”  are  easy  or  whether  they  are  for¬ 
bidden,  and  in  the  hundreds  of  thousands  of  cases  wholly 
disconnected  with  the  ideas  and  teachings  of  Spiritual¬ 
ism  ?  For  example,  take  the  case  of  the  marriage  of 
the  intelligent  Mrs.  Heaviside  to  the  celebrated  Dr. 
Lardner,  at  Paris,  both  of  the  parties  having  resided  in 
this  country  many  years  ago,  at  which  time  the  facts 
were  brought  before  the  public.  A  brief  recital  of 
the  circumstances  connected  with  that  extraordinary 
elopement  might  prove  interesting  and  instructive  to 
lawyers. 

The  maiden  name  of  Mrs.  Heaviside,  was  Miss  Mary 
Spicer  ;  she  was  the  only  daughter  of  Col.  Spicer,  of  the 
British  Lancers.  She  was  married  to  Captain  Heavi¬ 
side,  of  the  army,  in  1824.  He  settled  upon  her  the 
sum  of  £20,000  at  their  marriage,  and  she  was  also 
entitled  to  £13,000  on  the  death  of  her  father.  The 
marriage  was  one  of  affection,  and  was  blessed  with 
three  children.  Mrs.  Heaviside  eloped  with  Dr.  Lard¬ 
ner  on  the  thirteenth  of  March,  1840,  sixteen  years 


260 


MEMORANDA. 


after  her  marriage.  Now,  why  did  she  do  this  deed  ?  The 
following  letter,  written  to  her  husband  two  days  after 
the  elopement,  contains  the  lady’s  own  frank  account 
of  the  matter : — 

Mks.  Heaviside  to  her  Husband. 

Sunday,  March  15,  1840. 

I  sit  down  to  the  painful  duty  of  fulfilling  the  promise  made 
in  my  note  of  Friday. 

I  will  do  it  as  briefly  as  the  circumstances  to  be  told  and  the 
feelings  to  be  expressed  will  permit.  You  have  observed  the  con¬ 
tinued  indisposition  from  which  I  have  suffered  for  many  years 
past,  and  which  I  have  allowed  you  to  suppose  proceeded  from 
bodily  illness.  My  sufferings,  however,  were  of  a  different 
nature,  and  arose  from  a  different  cause.  They  originated  in  the 
mind  and  in  the  heart. 

Among  the  persons  introduced  to  my  acquaintance  within  the 
last  few  months,  was  one,  who,  unfortunately  for  me,  produced 
such  an  impression  on  my  heart  as  I  felt  could  never  be  effaced. 
In  the  first  period  of  our  acquaintance,  I  flattered  myself  the 
sentiments  he  inspired  were  those  of  friendship  merely,  and  I 
indulged  in  his  society  with  unguarded,  and,  as  the  event  proved, 
most  imprudent  freedom  ;  as  this,  however,  was  no  more  thau 
was  done  by  other  ladies  by  whom  his  acquaintance  and  conver¬ 
sation  were  eagerly  sought,  and  as  I  never  before  had  reason  to 
distrust  myself,  I  proceeded,  unapprehensive  of  the  consequences. 

He  departed  from  Brighton,  and  the  effects  of  his  absence  con¬ 
vinced  me  for  the  first  time  of  the  real  state  of  my  heart,  and  I 
soon  felt  that  my  peace  of  mind  was  irretrievably  lost.  He  had 
never  presumed  to  tell  me  that  I  was  to  him  an  object  of  affection. 
Ilis  manner  and  language  were,  on  the  contrary,  most  deferential 
and  respectful.  I  had  seen,  however,  indications  of  his  feelings 
toward  me,  more  convincing  and  unequivocal  than  mere  words 
could  convey. 

In  short,  without  any  express  communication  on  the  subject, 


EVIL  MARRIAGES. 


261 


our  feelings  became  mutually  known  :  we  felt  that  every  dictate 
of  duty  suggested  immediate  separation  and  absence  ;  separation 
and  absence  were  accordingly  tried  and  continued  until  I  was 
driven  well  nigh  to  madness.  I  shall  not  attempt,  because  the 
attempt  would  be  unavailing,  to  describe  to  you  what  I  suffered; 
had  you  been  more  constantly  with  me  than  your  avocation 
usually  permitted  you  to  be,  the  state  of  my  feelings  could  not 
have  been  concealed  from  you,  and  it  was  only  by  heartrending 
efforts  that  I  assumed  an  apparent  cheerfulness  during  the 
brief  and  distant  intervals  you  passed  with  me.  You  know  me 
too  well  to  doubt  my  truth  when  I  assure  you,  that  on  more  than 
one  occasion  I  was  on  the  point  of  attempting  to  rescue  all  parties 
from  the  evil  which  menaced  them,  by  removing  myself  to  an¬ 
other  world  by  opium. 

I  struggled — God  alone  knows  how  I  struggled — to  subdue  this 
criminal  attachment,  and  to  recover  sufficient  tranquillity  of  mind 
to  enable  me  to  perform  my  duties  as  your  wife.  I  wrote  to  him 
declaring  my  resolution  to  conquer  my  affection  for  him ;  his 
good  feeling  and  real  regard  for  me  prompted  him  to  acquiesce  in 
this  course,  and  he  expressed  his  entire  approbation  of  it.  I 
tried  it — I  failed — the  struggle  almost  cost  me  my  life. 

I  now  became  fully  convinced  that  I  was  forever  incapable  of 
discharging  toward  you  the  duties  and  offices  of  a  wife,  save  by 
the  adoption  of  a  course  of  systematic  dissimulation  and  unre¬ 
mitting  hypocrisy,  from  which  all  my  better  feelings  revolted  with 
loathing  and  disgust.  I  felt  that  the  attempt  would  render  my 
life  one  continued  lie.  No  course  then  remained  for  me  by  which 
I  could  be  rescued  from  the  horrors  of  my  position  except,  either 
self-destruction,  or  to  withdraw  myself  openly  from  you,  and 
resign  myself  to  him  who  engrossed  all  my  affections ;  to  have 
adopted  the  only  intermediate  measure  by  indulging  in  his 
society,  and  secretly  committing  infidelity  to  you,  while  I  con¬ 
tinued  to  profess  the  feelings  and  perform  the  duties  of  a 
wife,  was  one  of  which  I  was  altogether  incapable.  I  therefore, 
after  viewing  my  situation  and  examining  my  heart,  determined 
to  abandon  a  position  which  I  could  not  conscientiously  maintain  ; 
and  I  did  accordingly,  on  Friday  last,  deliberately  and  advisedly, 


262 


MEMORANDA. 


and  not  in  a  moment  of  excitement,  or  from  any  sudden  impulse 
of  feeling,  leave  my  house  and  placed  myself  in  the  hands  of  him 
to  whom  my  affections  had  been  surrendered. 

Need  I  assure  you  that  up  to  the  hour  I  quitted  youi  door  I 
was  never  guilty  of  any  act  injurious  to  your  honor,  or  incom¬ 
patible  with  the  vows  I  had  made  you  ?  What  I  have  done  I 
have  done  openly,  and  have  not  added  the  meanness  of  falsehood 
and  deception  to  the  sin  of  infidelity.  While  by  this  formal  con¬ 
fession  I  place  in  your  hands  the  power  of  releasing  yourself  from 
the  tie  which  binds  you  to  me,  and  of  preserving  the  rights  of  our 
children  from  the  possible  consequences  of  my  act,  I  am  prompted 
as  much  by  feelings  as  by  duty  to  declare  most  unequivocally  that 
what  I  have  done  has  not  been  caused  by  an  absence  of  kindness 
or  affection  on  your  part;  that,  on  the  contrary,  from  the  day  of 
our  marriage  to  the  day  of  my  departure  from  you,  you  have 
been  most  kind,  most  tender,  most  affectionate ;  and  I  am  deeply 
sensible  that  you  have  deserved  a  different  return  from  any  that 
has  been  in  my  power  to  make. 

As  I  believe  and  trust  that  my  own  conduct,  as  well  as  that  of 
the  person  to  whom  I  am  now  united,  has  been,  up  to  the  hour 
of  my  separation  from  ypu,  such  as  to  afford  no  grounds  for 
objection,  and  suspicion,  you  can  not,  I  presume,  have  any  means 
of  knowing  who  that  person  is ;  it  is  necessary,  therefore,  that  I 
should  inform  you  that  it  is  Dr.  Lardner.  Neither  he  nor  my¬ 
self  desire  to  offer  any  extenuation,  much  less  defend  our  conduct. 
We  feel  it,  however,  to  be  only  justice  to  ourselves  to  say,  that 
we  are  prepared  to  suffer  all  the  evils  attendant  upon  a  total 
change  in  pecuniary  circumstances  as  the  inevitable  consequence 
of  the  step  we  have  taken.  I  have  come  to  him  destitute  of  any 
means  of  support,  and  bring  nothing  with  me  but  the  few  articles 
of  dress  I  had  upon  my  person.  He  has  surrendered  a  large 
income,  which  he  has  for  many  years  enjoyed,  arising  from  his 
profess;onal  labor.  Banished,  as  he  must  be.  to  a  foreign  country, 
damaged  in  character  by  the  very  measure  which  gives  me  to  him, 
removed  from  all  those  connections  on  which  the  profitable  occupa¬ 
tion  of  his  time  has  hitherto  depended,  he  is  at  this  moment  uncer¬ 
tain  where  or  how  he  may  obtain  that  very  small  income  which 


EVIL  MARRIAGES. 


263 


will  suffice  to  supply  out  most  moderate  wants  and  wishes.  Not 
foreseeing  an  exigency  like  the  present,  he  has  not  realized  any 
considerable  amount  of  property — nothing,  in  fa 't,  which  can 
materially  aid  us  in  our  present  position.  We  were  both  fully 
aware  of  these  formidable  difficulties  and  sacrifices;  but  he  felt 
that  any  sacrifice,  however  great,  would  be  most  willingly  made 
by  him  to  soften  the  evils  attendant  upon  the  position  which  I 
must  assume. 

Now,  in  conclusion,  allow  me  to  express  a  hope,  that  after  the 
first  anguish  attending  this  misfortune  has  been  assuaged,  you 
will  see  that  your  peace  and  comfort  will  be  more  promoted  by 
losing  me  altogether;  for  retaining  me,  without  retaining  my 
affection, would  be  irksome  to  you,  and  you  would  have  the  pain 
of  seeing  ine  daily  consumed  by  a  hopeless  attachment  to  an¬ 
other,  which  would  eat  into  my  heart  until  I  should  be  reduced 
to  the  mere  shadow  of  myself,  and  which  must,  after  a  brief 
period,  have  brought  me  to  the  grave.  It  is  not  likely  that  you 
will  feel  any  disposition  to  communicate  further  with  me;  but  as 
we  still  have  some  common  interests,  I  feel  that  it  is  my  duty  to 
supply  you  with  the  means  of  such  communication  should  it  be 
necessary.  Any  thing  which  is  addressed  to  Mrs.  Williams,  No. 
17  Old  Burlington  Street,  will  be  forwarded  to  me. 

Believe  me  still  your  most 

Sincere  and  grateful  friend, 

Maey  Heaviside. 

Now,  the  question  arises  :  What  is  to  be  done  with 
such  cases  ?  She  thought  and  believed  that  her  new 
affection  was  criminal— thought  of  removing  herself  to 
u  another  world  by  opium  ” — was  willing  to  do  any¬ 
thing  rather  than  elope  with  the  celebrated  philosopher. 
She  received  no  hints  from  Spiritualism,  which  was  not 
born  until  eight  years  after  her  elopement.  Or,  take 
the  more  recent,  not  less  notable  and  respectable,  case 
of  the  separation  of  Mr.  Charles  Dickens  from  his  very 


264 


MEMORANDA. 


intelligent  and  excellent  wife.  He  publicly  sneers  at 
Spiritualism,  attempts  to  ridicule  its  philosophy  and 
its  facts,  yet  he  takes  the  very  steps  and  justifies  a 
course  which  law-makers  are  now  called  upon  to  con¬ 
sider. 


96. 

DEATH  OF  THE  BODY  OF  ELIZA  W.  FARNHAM. 

New  York,  December  15,  1864. 

To-day  Mrs.  Farnham,  the  reformer,,  closed  her 
earthly  career,  and  opened  her  superior  life.  Her  la¬ 
bors  for  humanity  have  been  many  and  noble.  Her 
mind  was  brave,  benevolent,  intelligent,  and  progres¬ 
sive  ;  and  thus  her  life  for  the  spheres  had  a  good  be¬ 
ginning.  Early  in  the  autumn  of  1862,  she  returned 
from  California,  with  the  manuscript  of  her  great  work, 
“Woman  and  Her  Era,”  well  advanced  toward  com¬ 
pletion.  An  incident  connected  with  her  return  is 
worthy  of  mention,  particularly  as  to  it  we  are  indebted 
for  this  valuable  contribution  to  Progressive  Literature. 
The  narration  is  thus  given  in  her  own  words : — 

“  Being  in  Santa  Cruz,  Cal.,  in  tlie  early  part  of  June  (1862), 
and  intending  to  come  East  during  the  summer,  I  one  morning 

stated  to  my  friend,  Mrs.  K - ,  in  whose  house  I  was  visiting, 

that  I  had  concluded  to  sail  on  the  21st  of  July.  While  we  were 
talking  on  the  subject,  Mrs.  Glover,  a  medium,  a  resident  of  the 
town  came  in,  and  was  presently  influenced  by  a  spirit  whom  I 
had  known  when  a  child  of  about  ten  years,  who  said : — 

“  ‘We  do  not  wish  you  to  go  on  the  vessel  you  talk  of.’ 

“  I  did  not  know  what  steamer  would  sail  from  San  Francisco 


ELIZA  W.  FAKNHAM. 


265 


on  the  21st  of  July,  and  had  not  even  thought  about  it  at  all ;  but 
I  asked : 

“  ‘  Why  not  ?  Is  n’t  she  safe  ?’ 

“  ‘  They  have  been  overhauling  her,  but  she  is  wrong  about  her 
fire-works.’ 

“  ‘  Won’t  she  get  to  Panama?’ 

“  ‘No,  she  will  never  get  to  Panama  again.’ 

“  ‘  Will  she  be  lost  at  sea?’ 

“  ‘No,  she  will  get  to  the  land  someichere  doicn  there ,  but  half 
her  people  will  be  lost.’  ” 

In  consequence  of  this  warning,  she  did  not  take 
passage  on  the  ill-fated  “  Golden  Gate,”  and  her  life 
was  prolonged  to  complete  the  book,  the  manuscript  of 
which  would  have  been  in  her  possession,  and  doubtless 
lost  to  the  world,  had  she  not  been  persuaded  from  fol¬ 
lowing  her  first  intent.  One  of  her  public  lectures 
contained  ideas  somewhat  to  this  effect :  It  is  not  in 
the  discovery  of  new  and  heretofore  unsuspected  re¬ 
ligious  truths,  that  we  expect  Progress ;  but  in  very 
unexpected  applications  of  the  long  known  and  simplest 
truths  of  Nature.  It  is  sufficiently  difficult  to  inspire 
men  with  the  idea  of  high  spiritual  truths  ;  but  this  is 
much  easier  than  to  procure  their  practical  assent  to 
them.  Let  the  absolute  requirements  of  Truth  be 
peremptorily  laid  upon  business,  pleasure,  social  usage, 
political  economy,  and  the  whole  of  public  procedure, 
and  it  would  be  like  the  letting  loose  of  tornadoes  in 
the  forest.  Let  an  angel  come  down  to  measure  the 
ways  of  men,  and  to  change  all  that  disagreed  with 
Justice  in  the  family,  in  the  shop,  in  the  ways  ot‘  com¬ 
merce,  in  social  and  political  life,  and  the  clamor  of  re¬ 
sistance  would  fill  the  heavens !  What  has  been  the 
occasion  of  all  the  heat  and  fury  which  has  gone  forth 
12 


266 


MEMORANDA. 


upon  the  slavery  question,  but  the  simple  endeavor  to 
procuro  for  a  despised  elass  the  simplest  element  of 
justice  ?  The  whole  mighty  fermentation  of  England, 
the  irrepressible  throes  of  Italy,  are  but  the  result  of 
the  simplest  truths  of  Progress.  Little  by  little  it 
leavens  the  lump.  Each  encroachment  upon  embodied 
and  organic  selfishness  brings  on  a  battle.  Behold,  in¬ 
deed,  the  ax  is  now  laid  at  the  root  ;  and  every  tree 
which  bringeth  not  forth  good  fruit  shall  be  hewn  down 
and  cast  into  the  fire  ! 

Important  changes  are  to  be  made  slowly.  There  is 
too  much  human  happiness  involved  in  every  form  of 
social  usage  to  justify  rash  experiments  or  sudden 
changes,  which  may  be  from  bad  to  worse.  Neverthe¬ 
less,  no  age  will  be  allowed  to  shrink  from  the  applica¬ 
tion  of  ascertained  truths  to  known  imperfections  or 
misusages.  Forever  to  pray  “  Thy  kingdom  come,'’ 
and  forever  to  fight  each  step  of  advance  as  a  rash  in¬ 
novation,  is  the  wisdom  of  conservatism.  Some  would 
be  glad  if  God’s  kingdom  would  descend,  as  the  rain¬ 
bow  comes,  in  the  air ;  a  thing  for  the  eye ;  a  picture 
on  the  clouds,  which  shines  over  the  world  without 
changing  it.  Yes  !  it  will  come  like  a  rainbow  ! — the 
sweep  and  the  scowl  of  the  storm  first,  which  rends  and 
purifies,  and  then  the  peaceful  bow  on  the  retiring 
cloud.  The  coming  will  be  seen  in  the  growing  hu¬ 
manity  of  the  public  mind ;  in  the  application  of  re¬ 
ligious  justice  to  the  processes  of  society ;  in  the 
eradication  of  all  errors;  and  the  subversion  of  all  hoary 
evils  of  established  fruitfulness,  by  which  the  progress 
of  men  in  knowledge  ar.d  goodness  has  been  restrained. 


THE  USES  OF  LIFE. 


2(17 


97. 


PROFESSOR  MAPES  ON  THE  USES  OF  LIFE. 

New  York,  December  18,  18G4. 

I  am  now  recalling  the  fact  that  years  ago  Professor 
Mapes  spent  half  an  hour  at  our  cottage  in  Hartford.  I 
listened  to  his  accumulated  rich  treasures  of  experience 
in  Spiritualism.  Ilis  refined  wife  was  a  very  surprising 
medium  for  painting  exquisite  plants  and  flowers.  Ilis 
memory  seemed  to  overflow  with  the  numerous  scien¬ 
tific  tests  he  had  instituted.  His  mind  was  positive  on 
the  subject.  He  had  examined  the  various  Hew  York 
mediums ;  and  was  certain  that  the  spirits  caused  the 
manifestations. 

There  was  a  rather  gaudy  splendor  in  his  verbal 
equipage — a  kind  of  artificial  luster  or  exaggeration  in 
some  of  his  statements  concerning  the  uncommon  facts 
in  science — but  he  was  frank,  reasonable,  and  unequivo¬ 
cal  in  all  he  said  respecting  the  incontestible  proofs  of 
Spiritualism.  He  seemed  to  love  Nature  and  life  like 
a  child.  It  is  a  common  error,  he  thought,  to  find  fault 
with  Nature,  and  to  entirely  overlook  her  beauties ;  and 
in  consequence  many  suppose  that  there  are  no  pleas¬ 
ures  in  this  life ;  that  from  childhood  to  old  age  we  are 
surrounded  by  sorrows.  He  held  that  this  is  both  false 
and  impious. 


MKMOKAKDA. 


268 

The  Great  Creator  has  given  us  the  means  of  enjoy¬ 
ing  life  and  rendering  it  one  continued  source  of  pleas¬ 
ure;  but  we  must  use  means.  Improve  the  mind,  learn 
so  much  of  the  sciences  as  to  feel  an  interest  in  all  the 
natural  aifairs  of  life,  and  for  ever  afterward  misan¬ 
thropy  will  leave  our  doors. 

Is  it  not  monstrous  to  find  a  full-grown  man  unac¬ 
quainted  with  the  principles  of  the  earth’s  rotations — to 
view  sunrise  without  knowing  the  cause — to  feel  the 
changes  of  seasons  without  ever  trying  to  learn  why 
such  changes  occur  ?  But  how  much  worse  is  it  to  see 
a  being  endowed  with  reason,  so  besotted  with  want  of 
mental  energy  as  to  be  sour  with  himself  and  the  world. 
If  he  be  inclined  to  indulge  in  moral  feeling,  instead  of 
an  uplifted  eye,  adoring  with  a  lively  and  happy  heart, 
thanking  God  for  surrounding  pleasures,  he  talks  of  his 
trials,  calls  our  beautiful,  happy  world,  made  by  the 
hand  of  God  himself,  a  vale  of  sorrow,  and  speaks  of 
the  world  to  come  as  if  he  were  anxious  to  leave  this. 
Is  not  all  this  the  effect  of  morbid  slothfulness?  Is  it 
not  sinful?  Would  it  not  conduce  to  such  a  man’s 
happiness  to  study  so  much  of  the  sciences  as  would 
contribute  to  his  amusement,  and  enable  him  to  enjoy 
the  beauties  which  surround  him  ? 

The  word  science  seems  to  many  as  a  scarecrow  or 
a  bugbear.  It  simply  means  knowledge  reduced  to  a 
system,  and  so  arranged  as  to  be  conveniently  taught, 
easily  remembered,  and  readily  applied. 

Professor  Mapes  exerted  a  wide  influence  in  the  field 
of  Agriculture ;  was  a  genuine  American  ;  and  a  work¬ 
ing,  as  well  as  a  theoretical,  farmer. 


TESTIMONY  OF  JUDGE  EDMONDS. 


269 


©8. 


THE  WORLD  ACCEPTING  THE  TESTIMONY  OF  JUDGE 
EDMONDS. 

New  York,  December  20,  18G4. 

The  truly  candid  editors  of  magazines  and  respecta¬ 
ble  journals  are  gradually  finding  out  that  “there  must 
be  something  in  Spiritualism.”  To-day  one  of  our  best 
papers  contains  a  clear  and  candid  statement  of  the 
“  Phenomenal  Aspects”  of  the  question.  At  last,  too, 
the  world  begins  to  respect  the  testimony  of  Judge 
Edmonds.  One  public  man,  speaking  of  this  distin¬ 
guished  and  fearless  advocate  of  Spiritualism,  says  :  “  1 
knew  him  as  a  man  of  finished  classical  education,  a 
profound  lawyer,  astute  in  his  investigations  and  in  an¬ 
alyzing  testimony,  unsurpassed  in  his  legal  opinions 
and  in  the  discharge  of  his  high  judicial  duties; — and 
above  all,  I  knew  him  to  be  a  man  of  unimpeachable 
integrity,  and  the  last  to  be  duped  by  an  imposture,  or 
carried  away  by  a  delusion.” 

In  1851  Judge  Edmonds  spent  a  Sunday  with  us  in 
the  Hartford  cottage.  There  was  a  meeting  appointed 
at  the  public  hall  that  evening,  and  he  had  the  kind¬ 
ness  to  attend  as  a  guest ;  but,  in  order  to  fully  explain 
some  of  my  allusions  to  his  remarkable  experience,  he 
arose  and  addressed  the  congregation.  It  was  a  great 


270 


MEMORANDA. 


event  for  the  citizens  of  Old  Hartford.  The  morning 
papers  gave  reports  of  the  Judge’s  remarks;  which,  in 
corrected  form,  were  substantially  as  follows: — 

My  attention  was  first  drawn  to  the  intercourse  by  the  rappings, 
then  the  most  common,  but  now  the  most  inconsiderable,  mode 
of  communing.  Of  course  I  was  on  the  look-out  for  deception, 
and  at  first  relied  upon  my  senses  and  the  conclusions  which  my 
reason  might  draw  from  their  evidence.  But  I  was  at  a  loss  to 
tell  how  the  mediums  could  cause  what  I  witnessed  under  these 
circumstances;  the  mediums  walking  the  length  of  a  suite  of  par¬ 
lors,  forty  or  fifty  feet,  and  the  rappings  being  distinctly  heard 
five  or  six  feet  behind  them,  the  whole  distance  backward  and 
forward  several  times ;  being  heard  near  the  top  of  a  mahogany 
door,  above  where  the  medium  could  reach,  and  as  if  struck  hard 
with  a  fist;  being  heard  on  the  bottom  of  a  car  when  traveling, 
on  a  railroad,  and  on  the  floor  and  the  table,  when  seated  at  lunch, 
at  an  eating-house  by  the  side  of  the  road ;  being  heard  at  dif¬ 
ferent  parts  of  the  room,  sometimes  several  feet  distant  from  the 
medium,  and  where  she  could  not  reach — sometimes  on  the  table, 
and  immediately  after  on  the  floor,  and  then  at  different  parts  of 
the  table,  in  rapid  succession,  as  to  feel  the  vibration  as  well  as 
hear  the  sounds ;  sometimes  when  the  hands  and  feet  of  the 
medium  were  both  firmly  and  carefully  held  by  some  one  of  the 
party,  and  sometimes  on  a  table  when  no  one  touched  it. 

After  depending  upon  my  senses,  as  to  these  various  phases  of 
the  phenomenon,  I  invoked  the  aid  of  science,  and  with  the  as¬ 
sistance  of  an  accomplished  electrician  and  his  machinery,  and  of 
eight  or  ten  intelligent,  educated,  shrewd  persons,  I  examined  the 
matter.  We  pursued  our  inquiries  many  days,  and  established 
to  our  satisfaction  two  things: — 1st,  that  the  sounds  were  not 
produced  by  the  agency  of  any  person  present  or  near  us;  and 
2d,  that  they  were  not  forthcoming  at  our  will  and  pleasure. 

In  the  mean  time,  another  feature  attracted  my  attention,  and 
that  was  the  “  physical  manifestations,”  as  they  are  termed 
Thus,  I  have  known  a  pine  table  with  four  legs  lifted  bodily  up 
from  the  floor,  in  the  center  of  a  circle  of  six  or  eight  persons, 


TESTIMONY  OF  JUDGE  EDMONDS. 


271 


turned  upside  down  and  laid  upon  its  top  at  our  feet,  then  lifted 
up  over  our  heads,  and  put  leaning  against  the  back  of  the  sofa 
on  which  we  sat.  I  have  known  that  same  table  to  be  tilted  up 
on  two  legs,  its  top  at  an  angle  with  the  fleor  of  forty-five  de¬ 
grees,  when  it  neither  fell  over  of  itself,  nor  could  any  person 
present  put  it  back  on  its  four  legs.  I  have  seen  a  mahogany 
table,  having  only  a  center  leg,  and  with  a  lamp  burning  upon  it, 
lifted  from  the  floor  at  least  a  foot,  in  spite  of  the  efforts  of  those 
present,  and  shaken  backward  and  forward  as  one  would  shake  a 
goblet  in  his  hand,  and  the  lamp  retain  its  place,  though  its  glass 
pendants  rang  again.  I  have  seen  the  same  table  tipped  up  with 
the  lamp  upon  it,  so  far  that  the  lamp  must  have  fallen  off  unless 
retained  there  by  something  else  than  its  own  gravity,  yet  it  fell 
not,  moved  not.  I  have  known  a  dinner  bell  taken  from  a  high 
shelf  in  a  closet,  rung  over  the  heads  of  four  or  five  persons  in 
that  closet,  then  rung  around  the  room  over  the  heads  of  twelve 
or  fifteen  persons  in  the  back  parlor,  and  then  borne  through  the 
folding  doors  to  the  farther  end  of  the  front  parlor,  and  there 
dropped  on  the  floor.  I  have  frequently  known  persons  pulled 
about  with  a  force  which  it  was  impossible  for  them  to  resist,  and 
once,  when  all  my  strength  was  added  in  vain  to  that  of  the  one 
thus  affected.  I  have  known  a  mahogany  chair  thrown  on  its 
side,  and  moved  swiftly  back  and  forth  on  the  floor,  no  one  touch¬ 
ing  it,  through  a  room  where  there  were  at  least  a  dozen  people 
sitting,  yet  no  one  was  touched,  and  it  was  repeatedly  stopped 
within  a  few  inches  of  me,  when  it  was  coming  with  a  violence 
which,  if  not  arrested,  must  have  broken  my  legs. 

This  is  not  a  tithe- — nay  !  not  a  hundredth  part  of  what  I  have 
witnessed  of  the  same  character,  but  it  is  enough  to  show  the 
general  nature  of  what  was  before  me. 

Angels  speed  this,  noble  Judge  !  He  is  a  man  of  re¬ 
markable  integrity,  and  the  very  soul  of  courage.  It 
was  truly  remarked  that  this  fearless  independence  has 
often  caused  him  to  war  upon  popular  prejudices,  and 
in  no  respect  has  that  been  more  strikingly  evinced 
than  in  the  course  he  has  pursued  with  regard  to  the 


272 


MEMORANDA. 


spiritual  manifestations.  As  a  man  of  large  and  varied 
experience,  and  of  great  practical  sagacity,  with  all  the 
advantages  of  a  long  legal,  legislative,  and  judicial 
training  and  experience,  it  would  have  been  difficult  to 
find  a  man  more  thoroughly  competent  to  a  full  and 
searching  investigation  into  the  truth  or  falsehood  of 
spiritual  manifestations  than  Judge  Edmonds. 


99. 

THACKERAY  AND  DICKENS  LOOKING  AT  SPIRITUALISM. 

New  York,  January  12,  1866. 

It  is  a  curious  fact,  that  our  two  leading  novelists, 
each  in  his  own  particular  periodical,  have  come  out 
precisely  at  the  same  time  on  the  physical  phase  of 
Spiritualism.*  The  battle  that  has  been  fought  out  in 
America  to  the  great  discomfiture  of  the  press,  and  to 
the  greater  growth  of  Spiritualism,  is  just  beginning 
here.  We  congratulate  Mr.  Thackeray  on  the  manli¬ 
ness  and  common  sense  with  which  he  has  met  the 
question.  He  has  allowed  “a  friend  of  five-and-twenty 
years’  standing,  and  for  whose  good  faith  and  honor¬ 
able  character  he  can  vouch,”  to  state  plainly  the 
physical  phenomena  which  he  has  seen  in  highly  re¬ 
spectable  private  families ;  on  one  of  which  occasions 
Mr.  Home  was  present,  and  floated  in  the  air.  These 
phenomena,  which  strike  the  press  with  such  profound 

*  This  entire  review  of  Mr.  Dickens  is  taken  from  the  London  (Eng.) 
Spiritual  Magazine  for  September,  1860. 


TIIACKKKAY  AND  DICKENS. 


273 


astonishment,  are  merely  such  as  the  Americans  for  the 
last  ten  years,  and  very  like  what  the  Chinese  for  the 
last  three  thousand  years,  profess  to  have  been  witness¬ 
ing,  and  which  we  have  been  detailing  to  onr  readers 
for  these  many  months,  on  the  authority  not  only  of 
our  own  eyes  and  other  senses,  but  also  on  those  of 
some  of  the  most  learned  and  acute  men  in  the  king¬ 
dom,  some  of  whom  have  been  previously  as  determined 
in  their  opposition  to  the  belief  in  these  things  as  Mr. 
Dickens  himself. 

We  can  not  but  think  Mr.  Dickens  pre-eminently 
unfortunate.  It  is  not  long  ago  that  he  knocked  his 
head  against  the  Chestnut  ghost,  and  got  a  severe  re¬ 
buff;  and  now  that  his  able  rival  has  ventured  to  give 
a  fair  field  to  the  statement  of  the  candid  observations 
and  perfect  convictions  of  the  truth  of  these  psycho¬ 
logical  facts — he  comes  forward  to  announce  that  he 
has  discovered  them  to  be  the  most  egregious  imposi¬ 
tions.  And  where  has  he  discovered  these  impositions? 
In  the  same  fair  and  conspicuous  arena  as  the  friend  of 
Mr.  Thackeray  ?  Has  he  gone  to  the  houses  of  highly 
respectable  and  firmly  believing  private  people,  who 
can  have  no  possible  motive  to  deceive,  to  make  his  ob¬ 
servations  ?  Has  he  sat  down  in  the  circles  of  persons 
as  educated  and  honorable  as  himself,  and  who  have 
the  most  serious  and  sacred  conviction  of  the  reality  of 
these  phenomena;  who  would  revolt  at  any  imposture, 
and  who  would  lament,  as  the  shaking  of  their  faith  in 
a  most  comfortable  persuasion,  the  possibility  of  any 
trickery  in  these  seances  f  This,  at  least,  Mr.  Dickens 
should  have  done  before  he  impugned  the  high  veracity, 
the  honor,  and  the  common  sense  of  hundreds,  and  of 


274 


MEMORANDA. 


thousands  of  people  in  this  country,  as  clear-headed  and 
observant  as  himself;  of  millions  in  America  and  other 
parts  of  the  world. 

No !  Mr.  Dickens  has  thought  fit  to  denounce  the 
physical  demonstrations  of  Spiritualism,  upon  a  single 
visit  to  a  professional  demonstrator  or  medium,  where 
he  paid  his  half-crown,  and  where  he  went  with  the 
foregone  conclusion  that  he  was  about  to  detect  an  im¬ 
posture.  Is  that,  we  ask,  the  way  to  settle  a  great 
question,  in  which  not  this  single  medium,  but  hun¬ 
dreds  of  thousands  of  mediums,  and  the  habitual  ob¬ 
servers  of  those  mediums,  is  concerned?  Where  men 
and  women  as  able  and  as  highly — and  in  many  in¬ 
stances  more  highly — educated  than  himself,  and  of  the 
most  undoubted  capacity  for  determining  the  truth  or 
falsehood  of  what  they  see,  are  implicated  ?  On  the 
contrary,  his  conduct  has  been  equally  rash,  equally 
foolish,  equally  capable  of  immediate  exposure,  with 
the  senseless  acts  of  the  late  Dr.  Dionvsius  Lardner, 
who  was  repeatedly  attempting  to  prove  that  steam 
could  never  succeed ;  that  it  could  not  get  across  the 
Atlantic,  and  that  trains  under  the  utmost  possible 
stimulus  could  never  run  more  than  thirty  miles  an 
hour  on  land.  Why  will  Mr.  Dickens  so  rashly  at¬ 
tempt  the  impossible?  If  he  could  prove  that  the 
mediums  to  whom  he  went — “the  one  old  and  the 
other  young” — were  impostors,  what  would  he  have 
gained  ?  Nothing  !  lie  would  not  have  advanced  one 
step  toward  the  refutation  of  the  claims  of  Spiritual¬ 
ism,  of  which  these  physical  demonstrations  are  but 
one  phase;  for  at  the  moment  when  they  read  his  ar¬ 
ticle,  hundreds  would  laugh  at  his  folly,  knowing  from 


TIIACKERAY  AND  DICKENS. 


275 


years  of  observation  on  all  sides  of  them,  that  precisely 
the  same  kind  of  phenomena,  and  still  more  wonderful, 
are  daily  taking  ‘place  in  private  families  of  all  ranks 
from  very  near  the  throne  down  to  the  humblest  houses, 
where  no  imposture  can  obtrude  itself;  where  the  soul’s 
hopes  of  immortality  and  of  Christian  truth  are  too 
deeply  associated  with  what  he  terms  nonsense  to  suf¬ 
fer  them  to  tolerate  it  for  a  moment.  Does  Mr.  Dick 
ens  think  that  he  is  the  only  man  possessing  a  decent 
share  of  shrewdness?  That  he  alone  is  capable  of 
using  his  eyes  and  his  judgment  to  the  detection  of  im¬ 
posture,  or  the  establishment  of  truth  ?  That  his  testi¬ 
mony  is  to  be  taken  in  preference  to  that  of  millions ; 
to  that  of  judges,  physicians,  and  barristers,  and  logi 
cians,  and  experimentalists,  who  have  spent  their  lives 
in  abstruse  inquiry,  and  in  tracing  out  all  the  windings 
and  subtleties  of  chicane  ?  The  inference  is  that  of  an 
assumption  most  preposterous  and  offensive. 

Now  our  opinion  is  that,  so  far  from  Mr.  Dickens 
being  at  all  qualified  for  philosophical  inquiry,  the 
long  habits  of  his  literary  life  have  very  much  disquali¬ 
fied  him  for  the  search  after  any  great  truth.  Mr. 
Dickens  has  not  been  seeking  after  the  truth  so  much 
as  after  the  melodramatic  and  grotesque  in  effect.  He 
has  mixed  so  much,  in  pursuit  of  material  for  his 
fictions,  with  the  lowest  and  most  corrupt  and  degraded 
of  the  London  populace ;  with  cadgers,  and  coster¬ 
mongers,  and  touters,  and  swindlers,  and  artful  dodg¬ 
ers,  for  his  Quilps,  his  Fagans,  and  Dick  Swivelers, 
that  his  mind  has  become  nearly  ruined  for  any  other 
department  of  inquiry.  Wherever  he  goes,  he  looks 
for  low  cunning,  and  sordid  trick,  and  base  motive, 


276 


MEMORANDA. 


and  a  false  and  fictitious  state  of  things.  It  is  as  great 
a  mistake  for  him  to  assume  the  office  of  inquiry  into 
the  nature  and  phenomena  of  Spiritualism,  as  it  was 
some  years  ago,  for  liim  to  attempt  an  account  of  Italy 
in  his  tour  there.  Italy  with  all  her  grand  antiquity, 
her  great  and  melancholy  story,  her  beauty,  her 
sublime  arts,  her  wonderful  evidences  of  the  Pagan  and 
the  Christian  past;  her  fragments  of  temples,  and 
palaces,  and  amphitheaters,  and  tombs,  and  triumphal 
arches,  in  which  and  among  which  the  masters  of  the 
world  once  moved,  and  the  oppressed  of  the  world 
suffered ;  and  where  the  proudest  of  the  proud  tri¬ 
umphed  ;  and  the  noblest  souls  wept  tears  of  blood ; 
and  where  the  groans  and  aspirations  of  trodden 
Christianity  are  yet  perpetuated  in  mausolea,  and  in 
the  living  clutch  of  a  priestly  despotism.  Italy, 
whispering  from  her  deep  foundations,  from  her  tawny 
Campagna,  from  her  mountains,  her  olive-yards,  and 
her  vineyards,  of  a  coming  resurrection  of  liberty  and 
truth, — was  not  the  scene  for  Charles  Dickens.  His 
eyes  were  still  tinged  with  the  vapors  of  Clerkenwell 
and  Rotherhithe ;  his  senses  still  inhaled  the  perfumes 
of  Wapping  and  Ratcliff’e  Highway;  and  he  presented 
his  astonished  readers,  not  with  the  sublime,  not  with 
the  touching  and  the  beautiful  of  “  The  Niobe  of  Ra¬ 
tions,”  but  only  with  the  odd,  the  vulgar,  the  flippant, 
and  the  grotesque.  Let  Mr.  Dickens  adhere  to  his 
peculiar  province,  where  he  shines.  We  shall  always 
be  glad  to  have  his  stories,  with  all  their  exaggerations 
and  their  mannerism,  because  they  give  us  as  well,  real 
touches  of  human  nature.  But  let  him  not  deceive 
himself;  we  are  not  likely  to  adopt  him  as  a  pioneer  of 


THACKERAY  AND  DICKENS. 


277 


psychological  or  theological  truth.  "We  appeal  from 
Dickens,  indulging  in  fiction  and  distortion,-  to  Thack¬ 
eray  and  honest  and  fair  inquiry . 

But  Mr.  Dickens  has  given  other  examples  of  his 
learning.  He  tells  us  that  these  sorts  of  things  have 
been  going  on  in  all  ages.  Very  true.  And  because 
this  faith  in  the  ministry  of  spirits,  these  evidences  of 
spiritual  surroundings  have  so  risen  up  in  all  ages,  spite 
of  ignorance,  and  atheism,  and  literary  presumption, 
every  sensible  man  is  satisfied  that  it  is  a  great  and  eternal 
truth,  underlying  all  our  life,  and  binding  it  up  with 
the  life  to  come.  It  is  because  it  has  thus  manifested 
itself  in  all  ages,  and  in  all  countries, — to  Hesiod  and 
Homer,  Socrates  and  Plato,  to  the  great  dramatists  of 
Greece ;  to  Cicero  and  Seneca  and  Tacitus  in  ancient 
Rome;  to  all  the  Christian  Fathers;  to  the  Catholic 
church  in  all  ages;  to  our  own  church,  which  has  its 
ministry  of  saints  and  angels;  to  Fenelon,  Luther, 
Melanchthon,  Erasmus,  and  Tauler  ;  to  Fox,  and  all  the 
Wesleys  ;  to  many  of  our  celebrated  bishops  ;  to  Bacon 
and  Milton,  and  Addison,  and  Johnson  ;  to  the  most 
eminent  leaders  of  the  Dissenters ;  to  Doddridge,  and 
Scott,  and  Baxter,  and  Adam  Clarke,  cum  multis  aliis ; 
that  we  know  that  it  is  a  condition  of  the  race,  and 
will  live  to  the  end  of  time,  and  knock  down  all  the 
proud  and  self-inflated  Sadducees  who  shill  venture  a 
blow  at  it. 


278 


MEMORANDA. 


100. 

A  SPIRIT  DESCRIBING  THE  EVILS  OF  CAPITAL  PUNISH- 

MENT. 

New  York,  January  20,  1865. 

At  a  recent  meeting  of  the  “  Moral  Police  Fraternity,” 
an  account  was  given  from  the  spirit  of  a  very  noble- 
hearted  gentleman  who  had  innocently  suffered  “  death 
by  hanging.”  He  came  to  call  our  attention  to  the 
injustice  of  legal  strangulations;  more  especially  to  re¬ 
monstrate  against  ever  relying  upon  what  is  called 
“  circumstantial  evidence.”  The  following  case  seems 
to  give  all  the  important  facts  :  There  was  a  trial  and 
execution  in  Dublin,  more  than  a  century  since,  which 
excited  great  interest.  It  was  that  of  a  surgeon,  well 
known  in  society,  and  esteemed  for  his  amiable  char¬ 
acter,  and  remarkable  for  his  humanity  to  the  poor;  he 
lived  in  a  retired  street. 

It  happened  one  evening  that  the  milk-woman  found 
the  street  door  a-jar,  and  not  being  answered  when  she 
knocked  at  it,  she  made  ber  way  to  the  kitchen.  She 
had  no  sooner  entered  it,  than  uttering  a  loud  shriek, 
she  called  loudly  for  help.  The  passers-by  and  persons 
from  the  neighboring  houses  were  soon  on  the  spot,  and 
the  kitchen  was  crowded  in  a  short  time. 

A  sad  spectacle  presented  itself.  The  young  worn  in, 


THE  EVILS  OF  CAPITAL  PUNISHMENT. 


279 


who  was  servant  to  the  surgeon,  was  lying  dead  on  the 
flags,  while  her  dress  was  stained  with  the  blood  which 
had  issued  from  a  wound  in  the  side.  In  looking  about 
the  floor,  a  surgical  instrument  was  found,  which  also 
was  stained  with  blood.  A  medical  man,  who  was 
present,  ascertained  that  it  was  the  instrument  which 
had  inflicted  the  death  wound.  On  a  further  search,  a 
shirt  saturated  with  blood  was  found,  huddled  up  in  the 
coal-hole ;  it  was  marked  with  the  initials  of  the  sur¬ 
geon’s  name. 

He  was  immediately  seized,  and,  though  protesting 
his  innocence,  he  was  evidently  under  considerable 
agitation.  The  silent  witnesses  which  were  brought 
against  him  were  thought  sufticient,  to  prove  his  guilt, 
and  all  attempts  to  account  for  their  having  been  found 
near  the  unfortunate  girl  were  scouted  in  the  cross- 
examination.  A  living  witness  was  also  produced  in 
court,  an  old  lady,  who  deposed  that  she  lived  in  the 
house  directly  facing  that  where  the  surgeon  resided ; 
that  her  drawing-room  window  commanded  a  view  of 
his  premises,  and  that  it  was  customary  with  her  to 
watch  his  movements ;  she  deposed  that  she  had  not 
taken  her  eyes  off'  his  house  all  that  day  on  which  the 
murder  was  perpetrated  ;  that  no  one  had  left  or  enter¬ 
ed  his  house  that  day  but  himself ;  that  he  went  home 
at  about  four  o’clock,  his  usual  hour  of  returning;  and 
that  on  knocking  at  the  door  it  was  opened  by  the 
servant,  who,  to  the  best  of  her  belief,  shut  it  fast  when 
her  master  went  in  ;  that  she  saw  him  three  or  four 
times  pass  the  windows  of  his  sitting- room  ;  that  the 
last  time  she  saw  him  was  about  an  hour  and  a  half 
before  the  murder ;  that  she  observed  him  look  down 


280 


MKMOKANDA. 


both  sides  of  the  street,  and  then  shut  down  the  windo\y  ; 
he  held  something  in  his  hand,  which  she  thinks  may 
have  been  a  surgical  instrument ;  but  this  she  could 
not  swear. 

In  summing  up  the  evidence,  the  horror  which  the 
prisoner  had  betrayed,  "when  looking  on  the  body  of  his 
murdered  servant,  was  evidently  dwelt  on  as  a  crown¬ 
ing  proof  of  guilt.  The  defense  was  weak  and  meager 
— a  bare  denial  of  the  crime  being  its  chief  substance. 
A  thrill  of  horror  pervaded  the  court. 

The  jury  retired — a  brief  space  sufficed  for  delibera¬ 
tion — they  returned  with  a  verdict  of  “  Guilty.”  The 
judge  having  donned  his  black  cap,  exhorted  the 
prisoner  on  the  heinousness  of  his  crime,  and  pro¬ 
nounced  the  fatal  sentence. 

It  is  said  that  the  condemned  showed  much  for¬ 
titude  throughout,  and  persisted  to  the  last  in  assert¬ 
ing  his  innocence.  He  was  brought  to  the  place  of 
execution  amidst  a  vast  concourse  and  the  execrations 
of  the  people. 

We  were  told  by  an  old  gentleman  that  his  father 
remembered  having  been  held  up  in  his  nurse’s  arms 
to  see  the  procession  to  the  place  of  execution.  He  was 
often  spoken  of  in  the  social  circle  as  one  who  had  been 
held  in  much  estimation.  His  untimely  end  was  lament¬ 
ed,  but  there  were  few  who  believed  it  undeserved. 

It  was  after  the  lapse  of  several  years  that  some  <me, 
who  had  emigrated  to  America,  returned ;  he  was  ill 
in  mind ;  something  lay  heavy  on  his  heart  and  dis¬ 
turbed  his  conscience ;  he  made  his  confession  to  his 
priest ;  he  had  been  the  “  sweetheart”  of  the  murdered 
girl;  she  had  let  him  in  by  the  back  way,  early  in  the 


THE  EVILS  OF  CAPITAL  PUNISHMENT. 


281 


evening,  to  take  tea  with  her.  As  they  sat  side  ly  side, 
he  asked  her  for  a  kiss,  which  he  would  have  snatched, 
when  she  denied  him  ;  she  took  up  her  master’s  surgical 
instrument,  which  she  had  to  clean,  and  which  lay  on 
the  table  beside  her,  and  she  pointed  it  toward  him 
jestingly  ;  in  a  struggle,  she  fell  on  it,  and  it  pierced 
her  side  ;  he  snatched  the  shirt,  which  she  had  in  her 
lap  to  mend,  and  stanched  the  blood  which  was  flowing 
with  it ;  but  life  soon  ebbed  away,  and  he  saw  the  girl 
that  he  loved — who  had  been  laughing  and  talking  with 
him  but  a  few  moments  before — lying  dead  beside  him  ; 
his  agony  only  gave  way  to  the  instinct  of  self-preser¬ 
vation,  when  he  thought  he  heard  the  sounds  of 
approaching  footsteps  ;  he  thrust  the  blood-stained  shirt 
into  the  coal-hole,  and  setting  the  hall-door  a-jar,  he 
concealed  himself  behind  it,  and  wdien  the  crowd  had 
collected  on  hearing  the  alarm,  he  mingled  with  it,  and 
then  passed  into  the  street,  and  on  to  the  quay,  and 
getting  on  board  an  American  ship,  he  sailed  in  a  few 
hours.  When  he  learned  that  the  surgeon’s  life  had 
been  forfeited,  he  was  overwhelmed  with  anguish.  The 
only  reparation  in  his  power  was  to  clear  his  character 
from  the  dreadful  imputation  ;  but  though  he  felt  a 
relief  in  this  act  of  justice,  yet  it  could  not  undo  the 
injury  inflicted. 

On  hearing  of  such  a  tragedy,  the  questions  are  natu¬ 
rally  suggested  :  May  not  such  have  often  occurred  ?— 
and  may  they  not  again  ? — and  is  there  no  remedy  ' 


282 


MEMORANDA. 


lOl. 

SPIRITS  APPEARING  IN  THEIR  CAST-OFF  EARTHLY  GAR. 

MENTS. 

New  York,  January  22,  1865. 

The  great  difficulty  in  explaining  the  phenomena  of 
apparitions,  says  an  English  writer,  is  to  account  satis¬ 
factorily  for  the  spectral  appearance  of  garments  as 
well  as  persons.  The  candid  ghost-seer,  in  relating  his 
experiences  is  baffled  by  the  scoffing  logician,  who  ex¬ 
claims,  “  I  have  no  objection  to  believe  in  the  appari¬ 
tion  of  the  soul  of  your  grandmother,  but  don’t  tell 
me  that  you  really  and  literally  saw  the  ghost  of  her 
night-cap  and  apron !  Your  dead  uncle,  too,  whom 
you  saw  drowning  when  you  and  he  were  a  thousand 
miles  apart ;  is  his  pea-jacket  endowed  with  an  immor¬ 
tal  spirit?”  Our  credulous  friend  is  puzzled,  and 
meekly  acquiesces  in  the  conclusion — “Well,  perhaps 
it  was  all  a  delusion.”  To  meet  this  difficulty,  I  ven¬ 
ture  to  offer,  as  a  solution,  the  following  hypothesis : 
that  every  significant  action  of  our  lives — in  the  gar¬ 
ments  we  wear,  and  in  the  attitudes  and  gestures  of  our 
humanity — is  vitally  photographed  or  depicted  in  the 
spirit-world  ;  and  that  the  angels,  under  God’s  direction, 
have  the  power  of  exhibiting,  as  a  living  picture,  any 
specific  circumstances  or  features  to  those  who  have  the 


CAST  OFF  EARTHLY  GARMENTS. 


283 


gift  of  spiritual  sight,  and  who  are  intended  to  be  in¬ 
fluenced  by  the  manifestations.  These  tableaux  may 
represent  still  life,  or  they  may  be  animated  by  certain 
spirits  appointed  for  the  purpose,  or  by  the  identical 
spirits  of  the  persons  whose  forms  are  shown,  when  the 
apparitions  are  the  images  of  those  who  have  departed 
this  world. 

What  an  idea  of  infinity  and  divine  government  does 
it  give  us,  to  suppose  that  after  death  we  shall  move 
through  a  grand  picture-gallery  of  our  own  deeds  self- 
delineated.  What  a  subject  of  contemplation  and  awe 
to  those  who  are  debating  in  their  own  minds  the 
character  of  their  actions !  What  a  check  to  those  who 
have  not  yet  quite  decided  to  perpetrate  something  un¬ 
worthy  of  future  exhibition  !  And  wdiat  a  consolation 
to  believe  that  true  repentance  for  any  vicious  deeds 
may  secure  the  removal  of  the  portraits  of  such  deeds 
from  the  gallery  of  celestial  art ! 

This  idea  of  vitally  photographing  in  the  spirit 
spheres  the  persons  and  scenes  of  this  world,  may  be 
used  to  explain  another  curious  class  of  phenomena — 
those  exhibited  in  what  is  called  “  traveling  clairvoy¬ 
ance,”  in  which  the  spirit  of  the  clairvoyant  is  stated  to 
leave  the  body  and  go  on  journeys,  describing  events 
happening  at  a  distance.  But  in  studying  this  subject, 
a  great  difficulty  presents  itself.  The  clairvoyant  some¬ 
times  sees  places  not  as  they  appear  now,  but  as  they 
existed  many  years  ago,  before  modern  improvements 
and  restorations  were  effected  ;  and  minute  events,  of 
which  the  clairvoyant  never  had,  and  never  could  have 
had,  any  knowledge,  are  narrated  as  occurring,  which 
really  happened  perhaps  half  a  century  before  the  time 


2S4 


MEMORANDA. 


they  are  seen.  Here  our  Spiritual  Photographic 
Theory  comes  to  our  assistance,  and  helps  us  to  clear 
up  tlie  mystery. 

We  are  at  liberty  to  suppose  that  the  angels  unroll 
before  the  spiritual  sight  of  the  clairvoyant,  a  grand 
panorama  of  past  scenes  and  events  in  their  order  of 
time  and  sequence  of  action  ;  so  that  without  leaving 
the  body,  the  soul  can  discern  literally  and  faithfully 
things  and  persons  that  have  long  since  disappeared 
from  this  world,  as  well  as  those  that  are  now  actually 
in  existence.  Or  we  may  believe,  that  in  the  trance, 
another  spirit  enters  and  takes  possession  of  the  body  of 
the  clairvoyant  to  perform  this  discerning  and  descrip¬ 
tive  office.* 


103. 

INVESTIGATIONS  OP  ROBERT  DALE  OWEN. 

New  York,  January  30,  1865. 

After  Rev.  T.  W.  Higginson  and  Dr.  R.  T.  Hallock, 
Dr.  H.  T.  Childs,  and  others,  comes  Hon.  R.  D.  Owen. 
He  enters  the  ranks  of  Spiritualism  after  long  and 
thorough  investigation.  As  a  thinker  and  historian  he 
is  the  embodiment  of  patience,  candor,  and  complete¬ 
ness.  His  testimony  is  perfect.  He  brings  great  natu¬ 
ral  intellectual  and  moral  endowments  into  the  field; 
and  as  a  scholar,  judged  by  the  standard  of  worldly 
wisdom,  he  is  second  to  no  person  in  public  life.  He 
comes  among  Spiritualists  with  the  “peu  of  a  ready 

*  The  foregoing  is  extracted  from  Mr.  Crosland’s  very  excellent  little 
brochure  entitled  “  Apparitions ;  a  New  Theory." 


ROBERT  DALE  OWEN. 


285 


writer,”  and  with  a  mind  well  acquainted  with  “  the 
ways  of  the  world.”  The  press  and  the  pulpit  have 
become  the  creators  of  public  opinion — the  agents  for 
good  or  evil — the  promulgators  of  truth  or  falsehood. 
And  those  powers,  when  they  can  be  united  for  truth 
and  goodness  in  both  hemispheres,  may,  with  ease,  cre¬ 
ate,  before  the  termination  of  this  decade,  a  new  public 
opinion  in  favor  of  spiritual  ideas,  and  an  irresistible 
general  desire  to  have  them  carried,  on  both  sides  of  the 
Atlantic,  faithfully  into  practice.  I  now,  in  the  name 
of  humanity  and  common  sense,  call  upon  Spiritualists 
in  both  hemispheres  to  unite,  heart  and  soul,  in  this 
great  and  good  cause.  Let  the  world  be  regenerated — 
emancipated  from  diseases,  crimes,  and  their  evils — and 
the  human  race,  in  peace  and  charity,  enabled  to  enjoy 
the  abundance  of  the  good  things  of  the  Spirit,  which 
nature  has  so  lavishly  provided  for  all. 

Mr.  Owen,  it  seems  to  me,  is  the  man  whom  Spiritu¬ 
alists  should  elect  to  fill  the  “editorial  chair”  in  that 
sanctum  from  which  might  emanate  the  best  American 
Spiritual  Magazine.  He  would  sweep  out  of  our  ranks  all 
mere  frivolity  and  sensationalism,  and  the  common  arti¬ 
ficial  excitements,  which,  as  every  one  knows,  gradu¬ 
ally  vitiate  the  taste  and  "weaken  the  mind,  like  delete¬ 
rious  stimulants  too  long  taken  into  the  stomach  ;  and, 
instead,  he  would  infuse  a  closer  system  of  investiga¬ 
tion,  awaken  interest  in  the  pure  facts  of  our  experience, 
and  so  elevate  and  ennoble  a  beloved  cause. 


MEMORANDA. 


286 


103. 

VISION  OP  A  FRIEND  IN  GERMANY. 

Philadelphia,  Pa.,  October  18,  1865 

Before  this  morning  session  of  the  National  Conven¬ 
tion  of  Spiritualists,  to  which  we  came  as  delegates  from 
the  New  York  Lyceum,  I  took  a  clairvoyant  observa¬ 
tion  of  Mr.  G.  C.  Wittig,  the  esteemed  and  thoroughly- 
devoted  translator  of  the  Ilarmonial  Philosophy  into 
the  German  language.  .  .  .  What  I  discerned  this 

morning  strongly  reminded  me  of  a  view  I  had  of  him, 
at  his  home  in  Breslau,  Prussia,  about  the  tenth  of 
September,  1862.  .  .  .  There  was  in  the  house  (as 
I  now  recall  the  facts)  a  pleasant-faced  man,  rather  be¬ 
low  the  ordinary  stature,  talking  with  Mrs.  Wittig  con¬ 
cerning  one  of  her  two  sons.  Three  girls  were  in  the 
house,  and  the  person,  who  was  the  object  of  my  visit, 
was  just  writing  on  an  envelope  the  name  of  a  book-mer¬ 
chant  in  Saxony.  .  .  .  He  seems  to  have  dreamed 
in  youth  that,  in  some  sequestered  place,  near  his  native 
village,  among  the  lovely  hills,  he  would  find  a  treasure 
to  enrich  and  bless  his  beloved  parents.  .  .  .  The 

ideas  of  the  Harmonial  Philosophy,  flashing  like  stars 
in  the  firmament  of  his  reason,  are  the  silver  and  gold 
of  his  dreams.  .  .  .  He  dreams  now  that  his  be¬ 

loved  fatherland  will  be  abundantly  enriched  by  his 


CHILDREN’S  PROGRESSIVE  LYCEUM. 


237 


tr  anslations.  .  .  .  His  translation  of  Mr.  Partridge’s 

chapter  on  Spiritualism  is  valuable;  but — who  will  read 
it?  Who,  as  yet,  will  purchase  and  read  any  one  of  the 
translations  by  this  faithful  Wittig?  .  .  .  But  this 

morning  a  new  light  breaks  in  upon  his  waiting  reason. 
There  is  a  note  from  a  dear  distant  friend,  conveying 
tidings  of  encouragement.  May  his  heart  grow  stronger, 
as  his  mind  sees  deeper  and  higher!  Very  slow  will 
come  his  reward. 


104. 

THOUGHTS  ON  THE  CHILDREN’S  PROGRESSIVE  LYCEUM. 

St.  Louis,  Mo.,  December  14,  1865. 

Yesterday,  a  large  number  of  the  enterprising  peo¬ 
ple  of  this  city  met  in  Mercantile  Hall.  .  .  .  My 

discourse  to  them  was,  in  substance,  as  follows  : — 

We  hold,  first,  that  the  Universe  is  the  product  of 
Divine  Intelligence,  perfect  in  attributes,  harmonious 
in  parts  and  purposes,  and  essentially  unchangeable. 

We  hold,  secondly,  that  the  human  mind  is  a  finite 
embodiment  of  the  infinite  ;  and  that,  by  much  and 
diligent  searching,  man  can  perceive  and  comprehend 
much  of  the  nature  and  operations  of  the  infinite. 

Such  comprehension  is  wisdom.  It  differs  from 
knowledge  as  much  as  substance  differs  from  shadow. 
Wisdom  is  akin  to  the  intelligence  that  lives  in  the  life 
of  things,  while  knowledge  reorganizes  the  shape 
locality,  color,  and  uses  of  things,  without  discerning 
their  ultimate  purpose  and  divine  significance.  Knowl- 


288 


MEMORANDA. 


edge  is  external ;  wisdom,  internal.  The  intellectual 
faculties  delight  in  perception  and  comprehension 
of  “things,”  while  the  inmost  parts  of  the  mind,  its  r 
spirit’s  intuitions,  delight  in  the  fellowship  and  infinite 
deep  of  eternal  “  principles.” 

Now,  the  question  arises,  what  is  true  Education  ? 
It  consists,  we  reply,  in  wisdom.  But  it  is  true,  also, 
that  no  man’s  education  is  “complete”  unless  his  mind 
is  stored  with  facts ,  with  knowledge  of  things,  as  part 
of  the  principles  which  constitute  wisdom. 

Memory  is  an  essential  of  knowledge,  as  a  house  is 
necessary  to  furniture,  or  as  canvas  to  the  lights  and 
shadows  of  a  picture.  Without  memory — which  is  a 
“  recording  angel  ”  in  the  mind’s  sanctuary — ordinary 
intelligence  is  impossible.  As  the  world  goes,  the  tact 
of  memory  is  paramount  to  the  talent  of  large  reason¬ 
ing  powers.  The  man  of  tact  is  successful  in  ordinary 
worldly  enterprises,  while  the  man  of  talent  alone  will 
fail ;  but  the  latter  is  victorious  in  parts  and  places 
where  the  former  is  defeated  and  despairing. 

Inasmuch  as  memory  is  an  essential  to  the  acquisi¬ 
tion  of  and  progression  in  knowledge,  and  inasmuch  as 
bnowledge  of  things  is  more  valuable  and  in  greatest 
demand  as  the  world  is  now  constituted,  so  we  observe 
that  all  popular  “systems  of  education”  are  based  on 
the  faculty  of  memory,  as  though  the  sum  and  essen¬ 
tials  of  a  man’s  mind  consisted  in  what  his  senses  can 
grasp  and  his  memory  retain  ! 

If  man’s  mental  organization  were  a  casket  merely — 
a  vessel  for  containing  ethereal  impressions — then  there 
would  be  matchless  wisdom  in  the  plan  of  education 
adopted  in  the  public  and  ether  schools  of  the  dav. 


children's  PROGRESSIVE  LYCEUM.  289 

The  possibilities  of  growth  in  spirit,  independent  of 
memory,  are  now  universally  discarded.  Hence,  the 
popular  institutions  of  learning  are,  for  the  most  part, 
under  the  control  of  mechanically-minded  men — men 
who  plod  and  plod  like  dray-horses  through  a  muddy 
road,  in  the  vain  endeavor  to  “  educate  ”  the  young 
under  their  charge  in  the  evil  and  crooked  ways  of 
memory. 

We,  of  the  Ilarmonial  Philosophy,  start  upon  a 
wholly  different  plan.  While  we  admit  the  value  of 
a  “  practical  education  ”  in  the  facts  and  uses  of 
things,  and  although  we  perceive  and  avail  ourselves 
of  the  ‘‘'benefits”  of  knowledge  to  be  derived  from 
the  study  of  books  and  of  external  Nature,  yet  we  start 
with  a  great,  deep,  infinite  conviction,  congenial  to 
whatever  is  deathless  in  the  human  soul,  that  it  is  our 
duty  as  much  as  it  is  our  glorious  privilege,  to  “  know 
the  heart  of  things,”  to  unfold  in  that  Wisdom  which 
can  discern 


“ - The  promise  of  to-morrow, 

And  feel  the  wondrous  beauty  of  to-day;” 

which  corn  prehen  deth  the  lengthening  sweep  of  im¬ 
mutable  principles  in  the  universe  of  matter  and  mind; 
and  which,  seeing  beyond  the  material  night  of  imma¬ 
terial  shadows,  and  beyond  the  enveloping  clouds  of  a 
seemingly  engulphing  fate,  calmly  planteth  its  feet 
upon  the  life-laws  of  the  Divine  Intelligence,  anti 
steadily  advanceth  through  “  ways  of  pleasantness,” 
and  walketh  harmoniously  in  “  paths  of  peace.” 

Memory,  at  best,  holds  but  the  reflections  of  shadows. 
The  spirit,  which  is  the  great  immortal  Man,  is  corn- 
13 


290 


MEMORANDA. 


pounded  of  the  life-essences  of  the  perfect  Soul,  which, 
in  common  language,  is  called  “  God.” 

All  true  education,  therefore,  is  unfoldment.  The 
inner  life  unrolls,  flower-like,  beneath  the  sun  of  intel¬ 
lect.  Instinctively,  we  begin  with  the  mind  of  the 
young,  begin  with  the  physical  senses,  as  the  natural 
method  of  reaching  and  developing  the  inner  life. 
Henceforth  the  method  is  deductive  (i.  e .,  intuitive  and 
feminine)  from  the  heart,  outwardly.  Both  methods 
are  finally  harmonized,  and  thus  the  mind  of  youth  is 
balanced — first,  by  the  acquisition  of  knowledge  in¬ 
ductively  from  without  inwardly,  which  depends  on 
memory  for  its  permanency  and  value;  and  secondly, 
by  the  development  of  wisdom  deductively  from  within, 
in  accordance  with  the  life-laws  of  the  Divine  Intelli¬ 
gence. 

The  Children’s  Progressive  Lyceum  is  such  an  insti¬ 
tution.  Its  methods  are,  primarily,  in  the  realm  of 
external  and  physical  exercises  and  attractions.  The 
attractiveness  of  a  thing  to  a  child  consists  in  its  physi¬ 
cal  properties  and  attributes.  The  sound  of  music,  the 
color  of  bodies,  the  plumage  of  birds,  the  taste  of  fruit 
and  other  food,  the  smell  of  flowers.  It  would  be  folly 
to  attempt  to  interest  either  children  or  adults  in  un- 
beautiful  things.  Dry,  indeed,  is  the  path  of  “  learn¬ 
ing”  to  most  children.  Consequently  the  world,  all 
civilized  society,  is  filled  with  persons  of  little  book- 
knowledge — persons  whose  early  years  were  spent  in 
activities  out  of  the  school-house — with  “  education 
neglected,”  simply  because  the  school-house,  under  the 
jurisdiction  of  the  mechanical  and  arbitrary  school¬ 
master,  was  a  place  of  unnatural  confinement  to  both 


children’s  PROGRESSIVE  LYCEUM.  291 

mind  and  body,  as  dreadful  to  little  children  as  is  the 
temple  of  error  to  the  angels  of  God. 

The  mind  does  not  more  need,  does  not  more  impera¬ 
tively  demand,  education  at  first  than  the  body.  The 
body  and  its  senses  first  call  loudest  for  true  education. 
The  baby-heart  is  wiser  than  the  “  learned  ”  college 
professor.  It  calls  unto  God  in  the  midst  of  “the  garden.” 
The  eternal  Father  and  Mother,  whispering,  say  to  it, 
“  Behold  the  singing  birds,  the  streams  with  their  many 
voices,  the  trees  of  sweetest  fruit,  the  flowers  of  finest 
fragrance ;  behold  these,  my  child,  and  go  forth  out  of 
the  cradle  and  out  of  the  house — go  on  the  full  run 
away  from  the  steady  step  of  thy  father  and  mother  ; 
scamper  from  the  school  master  who  teaeheth  under  the 
tree  of  evil ;  run,  skip,  sing,  be  as  happy  as  thou  art 
free  in  thfe  fields  of  nature,  which  is  boundlessly  ex¬ 
panded  in  the  universe  without  thee.” 

Hearing  and  heeding  this  Divine  voice,  thousands  of 
children  “play  truant”  when  sent  to  the  wrongly- 
constituted  school.  They  will  deceive  their  “doting 
parents  ;”  will  tell  a  big  story  to  escape  detection  ;  will 
play  the  hypocrite  to  perfection — all  to  obey  the  voice 
of  God,  which  is  stronger  in  the  bone  and  blood  of  a 
child  than  is  the  fear  of  parents  or  the  lash  of  the 
whipping  professor  of  learning.  Children  will,  like 
adults,  go  without  asking  to  places  attractive  to  them, 
which  may  be  most  in  accordance  with  their  physical 
and  sensuous  necessities;  and  it  is  the  climax  of  philo¬ 
sophical  absurdity,  as  it  is  the  stupidest  exercise  of  pa¬ 
rental  authority,  to  set  up  barriers  against  the  Divine 
law  that  impels  to  such  a  course.  Instead  of  quarrel¬ 
ing  with  your  children  for  playing  truant,  better  recon- 


292 


MEMORANDA. 


struct  jour  systems  of  education,  and  begin  with  the 
young  as  nature  begins  with  them — in  the  realm  of  the 
Senses,  with  their  bodies,  gradually  reaching  their  affec¬ 
tions  and  inmost  life. 

Congratulate  yourselves,  Spiritualists!  Open  your 
hearts  to  utterance  of  grateful  thanks,  because  the  in¬ 
habitants  of  the  Summer  Land  have  reached  forth  their 
strong  arms  to  sustain  you  in  the  effort  to  inaugurate  a 
more  just,  rational,  and  attractive  school  for  the  cul¬ 
ture  and  perfection  of  the  young  in  your  midst.  The 
Lyceum  is  progressive  in  every  true  sense  of  the  word. 
It  begins  with  the  senses  and  deepens  inwardly  to  the 
soul.  It  begins  with  the  perceptions  of  the  head  and 
continues  into  the  intuitions  of  the  heart.  It  begins 
with  amusement  and  ends  with  the  unfoldment  of 
wisdom.  It  gains  access  to  the  dweller  within  the  tem¬ 
ple  by  kindly  and  beautiful  offices  performed  in  love  at 
the  outmost  vestibule  of  personal  child-life.  Badges 
with  significant  colors,  corresponding  to  the  color  of 
the  station  target  for  each  group,  will  be  worn  by  each 
child.  (All  flowers,  all  birds,  all  precious  stones,  every 
thing,  have  colors  or  badges  significant  of  their  places 
and  purposes  in  nature.) 

The  Lyceum  children  will  learn  to  sing,  before  they 
think,  the  ideas  of  progress.  The  plan  is  so  truly 
simple  that  “he  who  runs  may  read,”  and  without 
constraint,  all  may  acquire  habits  of  order ,  the  art  of 
correct  thinking,  the  freedom  of  truth,  and  make  pro¬ 
gress  in  whatsoever  by  Christianity  and  by  good  people 
generally  is  deemed  wise,  good,  and  effective  unto  sal¬ 
vation  from  error  and  other  sources  of  misery  to  man¬ 
kind. 


HEINRICH  ZSCUOKKE. 


293 


105. 

REMARKABLE  POWERS  OF  HEINRICH  ZSCHOKKE. 

Cleveland,  0.,  January  20,  I860. 

According  to  a  writer  in  the  London  (Eng.)  Spiritual 
Magazine ,  Heinrich  Zschokke  was  a  “  self-made  man  ” 
— poet,  novelist,  schoolmaster,  historian,  statesman,  phi¬ 
losopher,  and  public  instructor.  Adventurous,  of  rest¬ 
less  activity,  much  given  to  thoughtful  speculation, 
haunted  for  long  years  by  the  phantom  of  doubt,  and 
tormented  with  the  problems  of  existence,  but  attaining 
in  the  end  to  a  serene  rational  Christian  faith,  his 
mental  struggles  and  diversified  outward  and  inward 
experiences  peculiarly  qualified  him  for  the  vocation  to 
which  lie  specially  applied  himself  in  his  later  years — 
that  of  a  popular  religious  guide  and  teacher  through 
the  press.  Toward  the  close  of  life,  on  looking  back, 
he  felt  like  Stilling,  that  the  wondrous  web  of  his  past 
life  had  been  not  the  work  of  his  hand,  “but  of  a 
mightier,  an  invisible.”  That  he  had  been  “borne  along 
the  torrent  of  events  wherein  (he  says)  I  had  no  power 
but  over  my  own  will,  hurled  without  any  co-operation 
on  my  part  into  the  wide  fields  of  action,  I  was  com¬ 
pelled  to  find  within  myself  a  strength  of  which  I  had 
not  been  conscious.”  He  was  instinctively  a  spiritual¬ 
ist  from  his  youth  up,  was  well  acquainted  with  the 


294 


MKMOKAJSTDA. 


phenomena  of  rhabdomancy,  which,  he  says,  “presented 
me  with  a  new  phase  of  nature,”  and  which  was,  more¬ 
over,  of  considerable  use  to  him  in  his  mining  opera¬ 
tions.  He  believed  in  spiritual  impressions  and  pre¬ 
sentiments  from  personal  experience,  especially  as  con¬ 
veyed  in  dreams;  but  his  most  remarkable  faculty  was 
what  he  describes  as  “  a  singular  kind  of  prophetic  gift, 
which  I  called  my  inward  sight,  but  which  has  ever 
been  enigmatical  to  me.”  The  following  is  his  detailed 
account  of  it,  which  he  gives,  as  “  it  may  he  an  addition 
to  our  stock  of  soul  experiences  — 

It  is  well  known  that  the  judgment  we  not  seldom 
form  at  the  first  glance  of  persons  hitherto  unknown,  is 
more  correct  than  that  which  is  the  result  of  longer 
acquaintance.  The  first  impression  that  through  some 
instinct  of  the  soul  attracts  or  repels  us  with  strangers, 
is  afterward  weakened  or  destroyed  by  custom,  or  by 
different  appearances.  W e  speak  in  such  cases  of  sym¬ 
pathies  or  antipathies,  and  perceive  these  effects  fre¬ 
quently  among  children  to  whom  experience  in  human 
character  is  wholly  wanting.  Others  are  incredulous 
on  this  point,  and  have  recourse  rather  to  the  art  of 
physiognomy.  How  for  my  own  case.  It  has  happened 
to  me  sometimes,  on  my  first  meeting  with  strangers,  as  I 
listened  silently  to  their  discourse,  that  their  former  life, 
with  many  trifling  circumstances  therewith  connected, 
or  frequently  some  particular  scene  in  that  life,  has 
passed  quite  involuntarily,  and,  as  it  were,  dreamlike, 
yet  perfectly  distinct,  before  me.  During  this  time  I 
usually  feel  so  entirely  absorbed  in  the  contemplation 
of  the  stranger  life,  that  at  last  I  no  longer  see  clearly 
the  face  of  the  unknown  wherein  I  undesignedly  read, 


HEINRICH  ZSCHOKKE.  205 

nor  distinctly  hear  the  voice  of  the  speakers,  which  be¬ 
fore  served  in  some  measure  as  a  commentary  to  the 
text  of  their  features.  For  a  long  time  I  held  such 
visions  as  delusions  of  the  fancy,  and  the  more  so  as 
they  showed  me  even  the  dress  and  motions  of  the  act¬ 
ors,  rooms,  furniture,  and  other  accessories.  By  way  of 
jest,  I  once  in  a  familiar  family  circle  at  Kircliberg, 
related  the  secret  history  of  a  seamstress  who  had  just 
left  the  room  and  the  house.  I  had  never  seen  her  be¬ 
fore  in  my  life  ;  people  were  astonished,  and  laughed, 
but  were  not  to  be  persuaded  that  I  did  not  previously 
know  the  relations  of  which  I  spoke,  for  what  I  had 
uttered  was  the  literal  truth  ;  I  on  my  part  was  no  less 
astonished  that  my  dream-pictures  were  confirmed  by 
the  reality.  I  became  more  attentive  to  the  subject, 
and  when  propriety  admitted  it,  I  would  relate  to  those 
whose  life  thus  passed  before  me  the  subject  of  my 
vision,  that  I  might  thereby  obtain  confirmation  or  refu¬ 
tation  of  it.  It  was  invariably  ratified,  not  without 
consternation  on  their  part.  I  myself  had  less  confi¬ 
dence  than  any  one  in  this  mental  jugglery.  So  often 
as  I  revealed  my  visionary  gifts  to  any  new  person 
I  regularly  expected  to  hear  the  answer — “  It  was 
not  so.”  I  felt  a  secret  shudder  when  my  auditors 
replied  that  it  was  true,  or  when  their  astonishment 
betrayed  my  accuracy  before  they  spoke.  Instead  of 
many  I  will  mention  one  example,  which  pre-eminently 
astounded  me.  One  fair  day,  in  the  city  of  Waldshut, 
I  entered  an  inn  (the  Vine),  in  company  with  two  young 
student-foresters  ;  we  were  tired  with  rambling  through 
the  woods.  We  supped  with  a  numerous  society  at  the 
table-(V hbte ,  where  the  guests  were  making  very  merry 


296 


MEMORANDA. 


with  the  peculiarities  and  eccentricities  of  the  Swiss, 
with  Mesmer’s  magnetism,  Lavater’s  physiognomy,  &c., 
&c.  One  of  my  companions,  whose  national  pride  was 
wounded  by  their  mockery,  begged  me  to  make  some 
reply,  particularly  to  a  handsome  young  man  who  sat 
opposite,  and  who  had  allowed  himself  extraordinary 
license.  This  man’s  former  life  was  at  that  moment 
presented  to  my  mind.  I  turned  to  him  and  asked 
whether  he  would  answer  me  candidly  if  I  related  to 
him  some  of  the  most  secret  passages  of  his  life,  I  know¬ 
ing  as  little  of  him  personally  as  he  did  of  me.  That 
would  be  going  a  little  further,  I  thought,  than  Lavater 
did  with  his  physiognomy.  He  promised,  if  I  were  cor¬ 
rect  in  my  information,  to  admit  it  frankly.  I  then 
related  what  my  vision  had  shown  me,  and  the  whole 
company  were  made  acquainted  with  the  private  history 
of  the  young  merchant ;  his  school  years,  his  youthful 
errors,  and  lastly  with  a  fault  committed  in  reference  to 
the  strong  box  of  his  principal.  I  described  to  him  the 
uninhabited  room  with  whitened  walls,  where,  to  the 
right  of  the  brown  door,  on  a  table,  stood  a  black 
money-box,  &c.,  &c.  A  dead  silence  prevailed  during 
the  whole  narration,  which  I  alone  occasionally  inter¬ 
rupted  by  inquiring  whether  I  spoke  the  truth.  The 
startled  young  man  confirmed  every  particular,  and 
even  what  I  scarcely  expected,  the  last  mentioned. 
Touched  by  his  candor,  I  shook  hands  with  him  over 
the  table  and  said  no  more.  He  asked  my  name,  which 
I  gave  him,  and  we  remained  together  talking  till  past 
midnight.  He  is  probably  still  living.  I  can  well  ex¬ 
plain  to  myself  how  a  person  of  lively  imagination  may 
form,  as  in  a  romance,  a  correct  picture  of  the  actions 


HEINRICH  Z8C1I0KKE, 


297 


and  passions  of  another  person,  of  a  certain  character, 
under  certain  circumstances.  But  whence  came  those 
trifling  accessories  which  in  nowise  concerned  me,  an  A  in 
relation  to  people  for  the  most  part  indifferent  to  me, 
with  whom  I  neither  had,  nor  desired  to  have,  any  con¬ 
nection  ?  Or,  was  the  whole  matter  a  constantly  recur¬ 
ring  accident  ?  Or,  had  my  auditor,  perhaps,  when  I 
related  the  particulars  of  his  former  life,  very  different 
views  to  give  of  the  whole,  although  in  his  first  surprise, 
and  misled  by  some  resemblances,  he  had  mistaken  them 
for  the  same?  And  yet,  impelled  by  this  very  doubt,  I 
had  several  times  given  myself  trouble  to  speak  of  the 
most  insignificant  things  which  my  waking  dream  had 
revealed  to  me.  I  shall  not  say  another  word  on  this 
singular  gift  of  vision,  of  which  I  can  not  say  it  was 
ever  of  the  slightest  service;  it  manifested  itself  rarely, 
quite  independently  of  my  will,  and  several  times  in 
reference  to  persons  whom  I  cared  little  to  look  through. 
Neither  am  I  the  only  person  in  possession  of  this 
power.  On  an  excursion  I  once  made  with  two  of  my 
sons,  I  met  with  an  old  Tyrolese,  who  carried  oranges 
and  lemons  about  the  country,  in  a  house  of  public  en¬ 
tertainment  in  Lower  Hanenstein,  one  of  the  passes  of 
the  Jura.  He  fixed  his  eyes  on  me  for  some  time, 
then  mingled  in  the  conversation,  and  said  that  he  knew 
me,  although  he  knew  me  not,  and  went  on  to  relate  what 
I  had  done  and  striven  to  do  in  former  time,  to  the  con¬ 
sternation  of  the  country  people  present,  and  the  great 
admiration  of  my  children,  who  were  diverted  to  find 
another  person  gifted  like  their  father.  How  the  old 
lemon  merchant  came  by  his  knowledge  he  could  ex¬ 
plain  neither  to  me  nor  to  himself;  he  seemed,  never 


29S 


MEMORANDA. 


theless,  to  value  himself  somewhat  upon  his  mysterious 
wisdom. 


106. 

BEAUTIFUL  SHOWER  OF  ICE  AT  ST.  PETERSBURG, 
RUSSIA. 

Orange,  N.  J.,  March  2,  1866. 

A  few  days  since,  incidentally  to  an  observation  of 
an  object  in  St.  Petersburg,  I  noticed  what  might  be 
called  “a  snow  shower,”  consisting  of  brilliant  icy 
crystals,  which  fell  on  the  people  as  they  walked  or 
rode  in  sledges  through  the  streets.  Every  crystal 
seemed  to  be  formed  exactly  alike,  something  like  a  star, 
with  six  points  of  radiation ;  but  I  think  there  were 
other  varieties  of  structure.  ...  It  seemed  like 
the  breaking  up  of  the  winter  season ;  but,  perhaps,  I 

was  mistaken  in  this . It  was  certainly  a 

new,  brilliant,  and  beautiful  exhibition  of  snow  which 
seemed  to  be  formed  just  above  the  city,  in  the  atmo¬ 
sphere-  —the  air  being  full  of  these  ice-crystals,  having 
all  the  appearance  of  snow,  and  yet  they  were  not 
flakes  of  snow,  but  the  finest  creations  of  electricity  in 
the  air,  which  clothed  itself  and  fell  in  starry  figures 
of  pure  frost  upon  every  thing. 


IMPENETRABLE  MATTER. 


299 


107. 

SUBSTANCES  CONYEYED  THROUGH  IMPENETRABLE 
MATTER. 


Orange,  N.  J.,  April  20,  I860. 

Yesterday  a  controversy  arose  between  two  investi¬ 
gators,  during  which  one  urged  his  belief  that,  some¬ 
times,  spirits  convey  material  substances  through  what 
is  deemed  impenetrable  matter.  The  other  contended 
that  it  was  not  necessary  to  believe  that  material  sub¬ 
stances  are  conveyed,  or  even  can  be  conveyed,  through 
what  is  deemed  impenetrable  matter  in  order  to  con¬ 
ceive  the  possibility  of  the  facts.  Take,  for  instance, 
the  reported  case  of  “  the  slipper  being  carried  away, 
the  door  being  closed,  and  none  of  the  party  having 
moved  from  their  seats,  he  being  directed  to  look  in  a 
leather  bag  which  was  lying  in  another  room,  where  it 
was  found,  the  bag  being  locked  and  the  key  in  his 
pocket,”  &c.,  &c.  Is  it  not  possible  to  conceive  that 
the  door  might  easily  be  opened  and  closed  so  rapidly 
and  noiselessly  that  no  natural  eyes  could  possibly  see 
it?  Is  it  not  possible  to  conceive  that  the  lock  of  the 
carpet  bag  might  be  opened  and  closed  again  by  spirits 
in  a  non -miraculous  manner?  Is  it  not  possible  to  con¬ 
ceive  that  the  laws  of  motion  in  matter,  and  the  laws 


300 


MEMORANDA. 


of  natural  vision ,  have  very  different  degrees  of  limita¬ 
tion  in  proportional  relations  ? 

These  reflections,  says  Doherty,  were  excited  in  my 
mind  some  years  ago,  when  I  was  at  a  seance  of  the 
Davenport  boys  in  Buffalo,  where  I  witnessed  the  oper¬ 
ation  of  tying  the  two  boys  to  their  chairs  with  a  very 
long  and  strong  rope,  by  Professor  Mapes,  who  observed 
that  he  had  been  a  sailor,  and  would  tie  the  cords  in 
sailor’s  knots,  which  he  did  in  a  most  complicated 
manner,  occupying  what  seemed  to  me  some  twenty 
minutes’  time,  being  tediously  long  in  doing  it,  and  un¬ 
necessarily  multiplying  the  difficulties  of  untying  the 
innumerable  knots.  When  the  boys  had  been  thus 
tied  to  their  chairs  we  all  retired  to  a  distant  part  of 
the  very  large  room,  holding  each  other  by  the  hand 
(the  father  of  the  boys,  myself,  Professor  Mapes,  his 
daughter,  and  Mr.  A.  Brisbane),  that  none  might  stir  with¬ 
out  the  others  knowing  it.  The  light  was  turned  down 
so  as  to  make  the  room  almost  entirely  dark,  and  the 
spirits  began  to  untie  the  ropes,  which  was  accomplished 
with  a  noise  something  like  that  of  running  a  cord  rapidly 
from  a  windlass,  and  in  about  two  seconds,  as  nearly  as 
I  can  guess,  the  cords  were  thrown  heavily  in  a  mass  on 
the  ground,  and  the  light  immediately  turned  on  again. 
This  feat  seemed  to  me  almost  miraculous,  but  on  reflec 
tion  I  asked  myself,  What  proportion  does  the  rapidity 
of  material  motion  of  one  degree  bear  to  that  of  another  \ 
What  relation  does  the  motion  of  our  planet  through 
space  bear  to  that  of  a  bird  flying?  Where  do  the 
limits  of  human  vision  begin  and  end  Avith  regard  to 
the  motion  of  material  bodies  ?  Can  we  not  conceive, 
from  our  knowledge  of  the  rapid  motions  of  the 


MR.  W.  P.  ANDERSON. 


301 


heavenly  bodies  in  space,  and  the  undulations  of  light, 
that  certain  degrees  of  rapidity  are  utterly  invisible  to 
natural  sight  ? 

I  need  hardly  mention  the  school-boy’s  peg-top,  spin¬ 
ning  “  asleep,”  as  a  familiar  example  of  invisible 
motion  ;  and  a  door  might  possibly  be  opened  and  closed 
as  rapidly  as  the  top  spins  invisibly  before  our  eyes.  I 
do  not  say  the  rope  scene  was  or  was  not  a  trick  of  the 
Davenport  boys,  but  only  that  invisible  motion  is 
neither  miraculous  nor  incredible. 

The  doctor  thus  concludes  : — I  do  not  know  what  is 
possible  or  impossible,  but  I  can  easily  conceive  that  the 
limitations  of  power  in  human  vision,  motion,  sensation, 
&c.,  may  exclude  us  from  the  possibility  of  being  con¬ 
scious  of  many  kinds  of  physical  phenomena  which  are 
supposed  to  be  miraculous,  while  they  may  be  perfectly 
natural  within  limits  which  transcend  our  normal 
powers  of  sensation.* 


JLOH. 

MR.  W.  P.  ANDERSON,  THE  SPIRIT  ARTIST. 

Orange,  N.  J.,  May  24,  1866. 

The  wonderful  pictures  and  portraits  by  this  truly 
spiritual  man,  are  drawn  upon  artists’  paper  with  lead 
pencils.  It  is  supposed  that  they  have  a  much  more 
lifelike  expression  and  effect  than  might  be  expected 
through  this  simple  means.  Even  the  effect  of  several 
*  Tho  reader  is  referred  to  the  Phxlosoph j  of  Spiritual  Intercourse. 


302 


MEMORANDA. 


colors  can  be  produced  from  a  black  pencil,  by  the  sin¬ 
gular  combinations  of  light  and  shade ! — though  this  is 
not  ordinarily  attempted.  As  his  labors  are  of  a  very 
fatiguing  character,  from  the  exhaustion  of  his  mag¬ 
netic  strength,  but  a  brief  time  is  spent  in  continuous 
occupation  with  the  pencil,  not  longer,  usually,  than 
half  an  hour,  without  rest,  under  favorable  circum¬ 
stances — often er  less. 

Mr.  Anderson  (see  the  Spiritual  Magazine)  is  clair¬ 
voyant,  and  spirits  appear  to  him,  at  any  time,  as  sub¬ 
stantially  as  those  in  the  flesh,  and  converse  as  free  is 
held  with  them.  While  using  his  pencil  he  is  in  a 
nearly  trance  or  unconscious  state,  and  subject  to  the 
real  artists  who  are  using  his  organism.  The  pictures 
are  not  in  miniature ,  but  of  life-size ,  and  represent  the 
persons,  who  are  the  subjects,  in  all  the  peculiarities  of 
dress,  &c.,  which  belonged  to  them  in  life,  at  whatever 
time  distant  they  may  have  lived.  A  very  pleasing 
feature  of  these  portraits  is  the  lavish  display  of  floral 
embellishment  with  which  the  more  elaborate  and 
highly  flnished  ones  are  adorned.  A  work  which  Mr. 
A.  will  produce  in  two  or  three  hours,  would  occupy 
artists  of  the  readiest  skill  many  days,  and  often 
weeks — by  their  own  admissions — and  at  the  same 
time  it  exhibits  all  the  marks  of  consummate  ability  in 
design,  in  calculation  of  space,  and  in  perfectness  of 
execution.  Portraits  are  commenced  from  the  lower 
extremities  and  wrought  upward  to  completion  as  often 
as  the  reverse ;  especially  is  this  the  case  when  the 
figure  is  made  to  rest  upon  some  elaborate  pedestal. 

In  our  Orange  home  hangs  a  very  exquisite  specimen 
of  Brother  Anderson’s  vase  and  flower-work — a  gift 


PSYCHOLOGICAL  ARGUMENT. 


303 


from  him  and  his  gentle  and  inspired  companion,  who 
is  also  fast  becoming  “  a  spirit  artist,”  and  thus  more 
perfectly  one  with  her  mate. 


109. 

PSYCHOLOGICAL  ARGUMENT  FOR  IMMORTALITY  DEDUCED 
FROM  FACTS. 

Orange,  N.  J.,  June  11,  1866. 

A  Boston  gentleman,  once  a  clergyman  in  good  and 
regular  standing,  writing  upon  the  evidences  of  indi¬ 
vidual  immortality,  comes  out  thus  favorably  of  Spir¬ 
itualism  :  There  is  one  argument  for  the  existence  of 
the  spirit  after  the  dissolution  of  the  physical  body,  to 
some  more  convincing  than  any  other.  I  allude  to 
certain  psychological  phenomena  which  have  impressed 
many  minds,  and  which  are  wholly  inexplicable  on  any 
other  ground  than  the  admission  of  the  soul’s  immor¬ 
tality.  The  kind  of  evidence  which  I  now  adduce 
may  be  classed  among  the  mystical,  but  it  can  not  be 
among  the  unreal,  for  the  reality  is  established  in 
numerous  minds  beyond  all  possible  doubt.  I  refer  to 
some  appearances  which  have  been  made  of  the  de¬ 
parted.  And  the  evidence  which  we  are  now  giving 
will  of  course  strike  those  minds  most  powerfully  which 
have  realized  the  same  phenomena;  nevertheless,  I  see 
not  how  they  can  fail  of  carrying  a  degree  of  convic¬ 
tion  to  all.  We  are  not  of  an  imaginative  character — 
those  who  know  us  best  will  entirely  acquit  us  of  any 
such  charge  And  it  is  to  pure  reason,  and  reason  alone. 


304 


MEMORANDA.. 


accompanied  with  palpable  fact,  that  the  evidence  in 
question  has  any  importance.  The  evidence  is  this: 
Many  persons  may  be  found,  of  all  varieties  of  disposi¬ 
tions,  mental  charactei’istics,  and  degrees  of  culture, 
who,  during  the  common  occupations  of  life,  have  sud¬ 
denly  been  impressed  with  the  presence  of  absent 
friends  or  relatives.  Sometimes  the  vision  has  been 
complete.  Friends  at  sea,  or  at  distant  parts,  have 
thus  been  the  cause  of  a  distinct  and  conscious  pres¬ 
ence  to  the  vision  of  their  friends  at  home,  and  after 
months  of  time,  frequently,  the  next  news  of  those 
friends  was — that  they  had  departed  from  this  life  pre¬ 
cisely  at  that  time!  What  could  it  have  been  but  a 
spiritual  appearance,  impossible  to  be  made  until  the 
spirit  was  released  from  the  body  ?  .  These  cases  are  not 
uncommon.  But  they  are  frequently  locked  as  a  secret 
within  the  heart,  and  not  related  but  to  a  familiar 
friend,  and  even  then  with  an  injunction  to  secrecy,  for 
fear  of  ridicule,  or  the  charge  of  superstition  :  so 
tyrannous  is  this  power  of  popular  opinion,  and  so 
sensual  is  the  prevailing  philosophy  of  our  day.  I  have, 
myself,  within  but  a  few  weeks,  received  relations  of 
this  kind  from  persons  of  unquestioned  veracity,  and 
far  from  an  imaginary  character,  who  told  me  of  the 
presence — the  visible,  entire  form  of  near  relatives  and 
friends,  and  the  next  news  was,  that  they  died  at  that 
time.  Perhaps  as  familiar  an  instance  as  could  be 
given  of  the  reality  of  such  spiritual  appearances,  may 
be  found  in  ‘‘Mrs.  Child’s  Letters  from  Flew  York.” 

Scottish  legends,  she  says,  abound  with  instances  of 
second  sight,  oftentimes  supported  by  a  formidable 
array  of  evidence.  But  I  have  met  with  only  one  per- 


PSYCHOLOGICAL  ARGUMENT. 


305 


son  who  was  the  subject  of  such  a  storv.  She  was  a 
woman  of  plain,  practical  sense,  very  unimaginative, 
intelligent,  extremely  well-informed,  and  as  truthful  as 
the  sun.  I  tell  the  story  as  she  told  it  to  me.  One  of 
her  relatives  was  seized  with  a  rapid  consumption,  lie 
had  for  some  weeks  been  perfectly  resigned  to  die ;  but 
one  morning  when  she  called  on  him,  she  found  his 
eyes  brilliant,  his  cheeks  flushed  with  an  unnatural 
bloom,  and  his  mind  full  of  belief  that  he  should  re¬ 
cover  health.  He  talked  eagerly  of  voyages  he  would 
take,  and  of  the  renovating  influence  of  warmer  climes. 
She  listened  to  him  with  sadness;  for  she  was  well  ac¬ 
quainted  with  this  treacherous  disease,  and  in  all  these 
things  she  saw  symptoms  of  approaching  death.  She 
said  this  to  her  mother  and  sisters  when  she  returned 
home.  It  was  at  that  home,  away  from  her  invalid 
relative,  in  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day,  as  she  sat 
sewing  in  the  usual  family  circle,  that  she  accidentally 
looked  up — and  gave  a  sudden  start,  which  immedi¬ 
ately  attracted  attention  and  inquiry.  She  replied  : 
“  Don’t  you  see  cousin  ?”  They  thought  she  had  been 
dreaming ;  but  she  said,  “  I  am  not  certainly  asleep. 
It  is  strange  you  do  not  see  him  ;  he  is  there  !”  The 
next  thought  was,  that  she  was  seized  with  sudden  in¬ 
sanity  ;  but  she  assured  them  she  was  never  more 
rational  in  her  life — that  she  could  not  account  for  the 
circumstance  any  more  than  they  could;  but  her  cousin 
was  certainly  there,  and  looking  at  her  with  a  very 
pleasant  countenance.  Her  mother  tried  to  turn  it  off 
as  a  delusion ;  but,  nevertheless,  she  was  so  much  im¬ 
pressed  by  it,  that  she  looked  at  her  watch,  and  imme¬ 
diately  sent  to  inquire  how  the  invalid  did.  The 


306 


MEMORANDA. 


messenger  returned  with  the  news  that  he  was  dead, 
and  had  died  at  that  moment! 

My  friend  told  me  (continues  the  narrator)  that  at 
first  she  only  saw  the  bust ;  hut  gradually  the  whole 
form  became  visible,  as  if  some  imperceptible  cloud  or 
veil  had  slowly  rolled  away.  The  invisible  veil  again 
rose,  and  then  that  vanished.  She  said  the  vision  did 
not  terrify  her  at  the  time ;  it  simply  perplexed  her,  as 
a  thing  incomprehensible.  Why  she  saw  it,  she  could 
explain  no  better  than  why  her  mother  and  sisters  did 
not  see  it.  She  simply  told  it  to  me  just  as  it  appeared 
to  her,  as  distinct  and  real  as  any  other  individual  in 
the  room. 

ISTow,  there  is  one  thing  in  connection  with  this  phe¬ 
nomena  which  is  inexplicable  on  any  other  ground 
than  the  admission  of  the  spirit’s  immortality.  The 
whole  of  it  is  striking  and  convincing — to  any  thing 
but  an  inveterate  sensual  philosophy.  But  there  is 
one  thing  that  deserves  particular  attention.  If  this 
appearance,  or  these  appearances,  for  they  are  many, 
took  place  any  time  before  the  death  of  the  person,  or 
after  it,  then  it  might  be  said  that  the  vision  was  only 
imaginary — the  effect  of  a  nervous  or  impressible  mind, 
by  mere  accident,  by  a  momentary,  intense  reflection 
on  the  absent  one.  But  why  should  these  appearances 
so  frequently  happen  at  the  very  time  of  the  death  ? 
Is  not  this  an  argument  for  the  disenthrallment  of  the 
spiritual  body,  which,  on  its  release  from  the  flesh,  then 
only  had  the  power  to  make  its  appearance  in  this 
manner? 


BASIS  OF  THE  CHILDREN  S  LYCEUM. 


307 


no. 

HAJRMONIAL  BASIS  OF  THE  CHILDREN’S  LYCEUM. 

Orange,  N.  J.,  June  12,  1866. 

I  have  just  mailed  a  letter  to  a  ver  y  dear  friend,  how 
traveling  and  lecturing,  who  wants  further  information 
concerning  the  “  idea”  and  the  “  plan  ”  of  the  Lyceum. 

.  .  .  .  Of  course  the  Manual  contains  the  sub 

stance,  and  much  of  the  detail,  of  what  I  have  thus  far 
received  for  the  world  on  this  celestial  institution.  .  . 

. The  Lyceum  is  based  in  the  fact 

that  ordinarily  children  are  indoctrinated  with  false 
theology ;  that  in  after  years,  when  such  children  be¬ 
come  men  and  women,  this  false  theology  clings  to 
them  and  manifests  itself  in  the  form  of  bigotry,  un¬ 
charitableness,  assumed  righteousness,  and  unprogress¬ 
ive  conservatism.  Furthermore,  that  the  popular  mode 
of  religious  teaching  for  the  young  is  unattractive,  is 
chilling  and  unnatural ;  therefore  injurious  to  confiding 
and  impressible  natures.  It  is  believed  that  the  young 
should  be  taught  by  pleasing  and  natural  methods  to 
love  the  Beautiful  and  the  Useful,  the  Just  and  the 
Wise.  By  the  Lyceum  it  is  proposed  to  cultivate  and 
harmonize  the  physical ,  by  teaching  and  obeying  the 
conditions  of  life  and  health ;  by  vocal  exercises  and 
strengthening  motions  under  the  influence  of  instru- 


308 


MEMORANDA. 


mental  music  ;  by  singing  appropriate  songs,  marches, 
and  by  the  practice  of  those  physical  movements  known 
as  light  gymnastics.  Next,  by  the  cultivation  of  the 
intellectual,  by  means  of  legitimate  signs  and  the  prime 
symbols  of  natural  things,  to  teach  attractively  reading, 
writing,  geography,  natural  history,  arithmetic,  gram¬ 
mar,  &c.  Next,  to  cultivate  the  moral  by  the  study 
of  the  mind,  its  structure,  laws,  powers,  functions,  by 
interesting  mind  in  mind,  inducing  the  child’s  spirit  to 
look  into  itself, through  apt  hints  and  suggestions;  and 
by  encouraging  young  minds  to  think  accurately  of 
forms,  qualities,  uses,  relations,  and  adaptations.  And 
iinally,  to  cultivate  and  harmonize  the  spiritual  by  ad¬ 
dressing  the  intuitions  and  mental  powers,  beginning 
with  the  simplest  truths,  and  thence  advancing  toward 
fixed  and  central  principles — the  Divine  Existence,  the 
works  and  Ways  of  Father  God  and  Mother  Nature. 

. Let  all  remember  that  true  Education  is 

a  life-long,  yea  an  eternal,  process  ;  therefore,  that  it  is 
not  reasonable  to  expect  that  the  germs  of  purity,  good¬ 
ness,  and  greatness,  inherent  in  the  child-spirit,  can  be 
rapidly  made  to  unfold. 


m. 

THEODORE  PARKER  DEFINES  THE  TEACHINGS  OF 
SPIRITUALISM. 


Orange.  N.  J.,  July  9,  1866. 

Most  appropriately  to-day — the  earth  and  the  sky 
so  golden  and  glorious  in  their  Summer  beauty — Mr. 


TEACHINGS  OF  SPIRITUALISM. 


309 


Parker  arrives  from  the  Summer  Land,  and  imparts 
great,  strong,  stirring  “  thoughts  ”  on  the  question  of 
Spirit  and  Matter.  His  definitions  are  still  the  same  as 
reported  and  embodied  in  the  following  paragraph.  Of 
tru@  Spiritualism  he  says  : — 

“It  teaches  that  there  is  a  natural  supply  for  spiritual  as  well 
as  for  corporeal  wants;  that  there  is  a  connection  between  God 
and  the  soul,  as  between  light  and  the  eye,  sound  and  the  ear, 
beauty  and  the  imagination;  that  as  we  follow  an  instinctive 
tendency,  obey  the  body’s  laws,  get  a  natural  supply  for  its  wants, 
attain  health  and  strength,  the  body’s  welfare ;  as  we  keep  the 
law  of  the  mind,  and  get  a  supply  for  its  wants,  attain  wisdom 
and  skill,  the  mind’s  welfare — so  if,  following  another  instinctive 
tendency,  we  keep  the  law  of  the  moral  and  religious  natures,  we 
get  a  supply  for  their  wants,  moral  and  religious  truth,  obtain 
peace  of  conscience  and  rest  for  the  soul,  the  highest  moral  and 
religious  welfare.  It  teaches  that  the  World  is  not  nearer  to  our 
bodies  than  God  to  the  soul ;  ‘  for  in  him  we  live  and  move  and 
have  our  being.’  As  we  have  bodily  senses  to  lay  hold  on 
Matter  and  supply  bodily  wants,  through  which  we  obtain,  natu¬ 
rally,  all  needed  material  things  ;  so  we  have  spiritual  faculties  to 
lay  hold  on  God,  and  supply  spiritual  wants ;  through  them  we 
obtain  all  needed  spiritual  things.  As  we  observe  the  conditions 
of  the  Body,  we  have  Nature  on  our  side ;  as  we  observe  the  Law 
of  the  Soul,  we  have  God  on  our  side.  He  imparts  truth  to  all 
men  who  observe  these  conditions  ;  we  have  direct  access  to  Him 
through  Reason,  Conscience,  and  the  Religious  Sentiment,  just  as 
we  have  direct  access  to  Nature  through  the  eye,  the  ear,  or  the 
hand.  Through  these  channels,  and  by  means  of  a  law,  certain, 
regular,  and  universal  as  gravitation,  God  inspires  men,  makes 
revelation  of  truth,  for  is  not  truth  as  much  a  phenomenon  of 
God  as  motion  of  Matter?  Therefore,  if  God  be  omnipresent  and 
omniactive,  this  inspiration  is  no  miracle,  but  a  regular  mode  of 
God’s  action  on  conscious  Spirit,  as  gravitation  on  unconscious 
Matter.  It  is  not  a  rare  condescension  of  God,  but  a  universal 
uplifting  of  Man.  To  obtain  a  knowledge  of  duty  a  man  is  not 


310 


MEMORANDA. 


sent  away,  outside  of  himself,  to  ancient  documents,  fcr  the  only 
rule  of  faith  and  practice;  the  Word  is  very  nigh  him,  even  in 
his  heart,  and  by  this  word  he  is  to  try  all  documents  whatever. 
Inspiration,  like  God’s  omnipresence,  is  not  limited  to  the  few 
writers  claimed  by  the  Jews,  Christians,  or  Mohammedans,  but  is 
co-extensive  with  the  race.  As  God  fills  all  Space,  so  all  Spirit; 
as  he  influences  and  constrains  unconscious  and  necessitated 
Matter,  so  he  inspires  and  helps  free  and  conscious  Man.” 


113. 

RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON  AND  FREDERICK  DOUGLASS. 

Boston,  December  19,  1866. 

One  of  the  standard  American  journals,  the  Atlantic 
Monthly ,  has,  in  two  successive  numbers,  placed  the 
above  names  in  juxtaposition  bj  publishing  an  article 
from  the  pen  of  each.  In  like  manner,  Boston  has 
placed  these  two  men  side  by  side  during  the  present 
season,  in  the  course  of  Parker  Fraternity  Lectures. 
Thus,  probably  without  designing  it,  editors  and  lecture 
committees  have  joined  in  giving  a  most  striking  illus¬ 
tration  of  the  opportunities  and  tendencies  of  American 
life. 

Emerson  wras  born  amid  the  conditions  of  Culture. 
From  earliest  youth  his  mind  was  elected  to  thought. 
A  graduate  from  college  while  yet  under  age,  he  had  a 
distant  background  of  educated  ancestry  ;  being,  when 
ordained  by  the  Unitarian  Church,  the  eighth,  in  or¬ 
derly  succession,  of  a  consecutive  line  of  ministers. 
Too  great  for  the  pulpit,  he  has  become  the  Plato  of 


EMERSON  AND  DOUGLAS3. 


311 


modern  Athens,  and  the  representative  of  culture 
throughout  the  world  of  letters. 

On  the  other  hand,  Frederick  Douglass  was  born  a 
Southern  slave !  It  is  only  necessary  to  state  this  terrible 
fact,  to  show  that  he  was,  from  the  first,  environed  by 
the  worst  conditions  of  ignorance.  No  grammar  school, 
no  college,  opened  its  doors  for  him — the  son  of  a  slave 
mother,  and  the  chattel  of  a  relentless  master.  He 
secretly  taught  himself  to  read  and  write,  and,  when 
the  hour  came,  fled  from  his  bonds  to  the  freedom  and 
intelligence  of  the  North.  Just  then  of  age,  he  had 
graduated,  not  from  a  seminary  of  learning,  but  from 
the  charnel-house  of  ignorance  and  oppression. 

And  this  Man  stood  in  Music  Hall  last  evening,  be¬ 
fore  an  immense  audience,  to  teach  the  American  peo¬ 
ple  the  principles  of  statesmanship,  to  show  them  the 
deep  and  solid  foundations  of  a  true  government,  by 
first  revealing  the  “  Sources  of  danger  to  the  Republic.’’ 
Calm,  grand,  impressive  was  his  utterance,  each  sentence 
freighted  with  convincing  truth,  till  at  last  argument 
was  merged  into  appeal,  and,  flinging  himself  with  pas 
sionate  earnestness  into  the  cause  of  his  oppressed  race, 
the  spirit  of  outraged  justice  poured  forth  through  his 
soul  in  a  flood  of  eloquence,  which  streamed  like  living 
Are  into  every  heart. 

Just  one  week  ago  Emerson  stood  on  the  same  plat¬ 
form,  and  to  the  same  vast  throng,  which  hung  breath¬ 
less  upon  his  words,  announced  the  eternal  verities, 
under  the  guise  of  “  The  Man  of  the  World.”  Golden 
were  the  thoughts  which  flowed  from  the  fountain  of 
his  wisdom.  Welcome  to  the  inmost  spirit  were  the 
immortal  truths  which  sparkled  upon  the  background 


312 


MEMORANDA. 


of  his  discourse,  like  shining  stars  on  the  vaulted  sky. 
Exhilarating  as  a  breath  of  divine  air,  were  the  electric 
sentences  which  roused  every  soul  to  heroic  self-reliance 
and  conscious  moral  power. 

Thus  the  rostrum  has  become  the  common  ground 
where  meet  the  utmost  extremes  of  American  society, 
giving  us  infinite  hope  that,  by  means  of  true  American 
Democracy,  the  dream  of  Plato  may  be  more  than 
realized  in  a  harmonial  republic  and  the  brotherhood 
of  nations. 


113. 

SPIRITUALISTIC  DOCTRINES  CONCERNING  PRAYER  AND 
WORSHIP. 

Orange,  N.  J.,  January ,  29,  1867. 

Not  long  since  a  clergyman,  writing  candidly  for  in¬ 
formation,  asked : — 

“  But  when  we  come  to  Spiritualism,  do  you  not  think 
that  that  prominence  is  not  assigned  to  the  religious 
faculties  that  ought  to  be  ?  Are  not  prayer  and  divine 
worship  indispensable  to  the  public  welfare  ?  .  .  .  . 

Man,  the  world  over,  is  a  worshipful  being.  It  is  as 
natural  to  pray  as  to  sing,  to  cry,  or  to  laugh.  .  .  . 

But  Spiritualism  should  have  its  religious,  as  well  as  its 
purely  demonstrative  side.” 

Now,  to  a  close  and  critical  thinker  (says  a  respondent), 
this  passage  sounds  strange,  coming,  as  it  does,  from  the 
pen  of  a  Christian  clergyman.  In  front  of  this  senti¬ 
ment,  thus  candidly  and  genially  expressed,  place  the 
following  words,  said  to  have  been  uttered  by  Jesus, 


PRAYER  AND  WORSHIP. 


313 


the  assumed  teacher  of  all  Christian  clergymen  :  “  And 
when  thou  prajest,  thou  shalt  not  be  as  the  hypocrites 
are,  for  they  pray  standing  in  the  synagogues  and  in  the 
corners  of  the  streets  that  they  may  be  seen  of  men. 
Verily  I  say  unto  you,  they  have  their  reward. 
But  thou,  when  thou  prayest,  enter  into  thy  closet,  and 
when  thou  hast  shut  thy  door ,  pray  to  thy  Father  which 
is  in  secret,  and  thy  Father  which  seeth  in  secret,  shall 
reward  thee  openly.”  Matthew  vi.  5,  6. 

And  when  to  this  clear  and  express  command,  we 
add  the  fact,  that  we  have  no  account  of  an  example 
of  public  prayer  by  Jesus,  before  his  assemblies,  as 
a  mode  of  worship,  who  can  resist  the  conviction 
that  public  prayer  as  a  stated  mode  of  public  worship, 
is  a  direct  violation  of  the  teachings  and  practice 
of  Jesus?  If  Jesus  was  a  Christian  (which  he  was  not 
evidently  in  the  modem  acceptance  of  the  term),  then 
public  prayer  is  anA'-Christian.  The  clergy  of  all 
Christendom  are  living  in  continued  violation  of  this 
emphatic  teaching  and  practice  of  the  celebrated  JSTazar- 
ene.  How  can  a  clergyman,  educated  by  the  New  Tes¬ 
tament,  engage  in,  or  recommend,  public  prayer, 
unless,  indeed,  he  has  become  the  creature  of  a  habit, 
practiced  by  the  church  without  any  good  authority 
therefor. 

Will  it  be  said  that  Jesus  gave  a  special  form  of 
prayer?  I  answer  that  this  prayer  immediately  suc¬ 
ceeded  the  command  to  pray  only  in  secret.  It  was 
meant  to  be  heard  by  no  second  ear.  Matthew,  Mark, 
and  Luke,  represent  Jesus  as  going  away  from  his  dis¬ 
ciples,  to  pray  three  several  times — just  before  the 
betrayal  of  Judas.  lie  would  not  pray  in  the  imme- 
14 


MEMORANDA. 


314 

diate  presence  of  his  disciples — his  dearest  friends, 
even.  When  he  returns  to  them,  he  finds  then  fast 

asleep . There  is,  therefore,  an 

inner  and  a  spiritual  side  to  worship. 

There  are  moments  when,  after  long  and  severe  toil 
in  the  work  of  elevating  ourselves  and  others ;  when  we 
have  fought  with  beasts,  not  at  “  Ephesus  ”  only,  but  in 
our  own  blood  and  society  ;  when  we  have  opposed  the 
unjust  law  ;  when  we  have  labored  to  save  the  fallen,  to 
protect  the  weak,  to  feed  the  hungry,  and  to  emanci¬ 
pate  woman,  and  negroes,  and  labor;  then  it  is  that 
there  comes  over  us  the  deepening,  holy  presence  of  the 
Divine  Spirit;  our  very  souls  yearn  for  more  light,  love, 
power,  and  beauty.  But  mark  the  fact  and  the  law — • 
such  moments  do  not  come  to  the  selfish,  self-seeking, 
hard-hearted,  and  lazy  man,  who  works  for  nobody  but 
himself ;  but  only  to  the  self-forgetful  toiler  for  his  race. 
And  the  soul  at  such  hours  lifts  itself  up  toward  the 
seat  and  center  of  Divine  Sovereignty ;  its  towering 
aspirations  that  put  out  its  Spiritual  tentaculse  into  the 
ocean  of  celestial  forces,  are  but  the  correlative  and 
equivalent  of  its  duty  done,  the  force  of  heart-love  and 
hand-work  for  men  transformed  into  power,  of  soul  into 
consciousness  of  our  Spiritual  Unity  with  God  and  the 
Kepublic  of  Ideas. 

The  power  to  rise  up  into  the  Divine  beatitudes 
arises  from  the  just  and  generous  performances  of  deeds 
of  kindness,  of  mercy,  of  justice,  of  love.  It  is  thus  we 
get  re-enforced  from  higher  levels,  for  other  duties 
which  shall  come  at  the  right  moment.  Yet  these 
need  more  devotion.  But  not  devotion  in  the  shape  of 
ecclesiastical  performances.  The  husband  needs  more 


VOICES  AND  LESSONS. 


315 


devotion  to  his  wife,  who  lias  forsaken  all  for  him ; 
and  the  wife  needs  more  devotion  to  her  husband  ;  and 
both  need  more  devotion  to  their  children’s  culture  and 
success  as  future  men  and  women ;  and  we  all  need 
more  devotion  to  justice,  liberty,  and  love.  The 
amount  of  wind  expended  in  oral  prayer,  if  it  could  fill 
the  sails  of  our  souls’  commerce,  would  waft  us  into  the 
harbor  of  eternal  peace  and  plenty  ;  but  it  flows  from 
too  low  levels  to  accomplish  this  celestial  voyage.  To 
be  sure,  let  us  love  devotion  ;  but  let  it  be  a  devotion 
which  will  free  the  Republic,  emancipate  woman,  and 
open  to  her  a  career ;  which  will  educate  all  the  children 
of  the  land  ;  which  will  exalt  labor  and  degrade  idle¬ 
ness  ;  which  will  soften  the  heart ;  spiritualize  the  af¬ 
fections  ;  purify  marriage  and  society  ;  develop  science, 
art,  philosophy,  religion,  until  the  dear  old  earth  shall 
blaze  and  brighten  under  the  beams  of  an  actual 
millennium. 


114. 

VOICES  AND  LESSONS  OF  NATURE. 

Orange,  July  29,  1867. 

Taking  up  the  Republic  this  morning,  the  following 
inspiration  from  Miss  Wheelock’s  Oration  before  the 
First  Spiritual  Society  of  Rock  Island,  Ill.,  was  read 
with  pleasure  : — 

‘‘Let  us  love  truth  for  its  own  dear  sake — Truth,  royal  and 
regal  as  the  stars  whose  constellated  glories  robe  the  night  in 
silver  splendor,  and  clothe  all  hours  in  solemn  awe.  Truth,  reg¬ 
nant  as  morning,  opens  each  glorious  day  with  salutations  of 


3L6 


MEMOltANDA. 


praise  and  thankfulness.  She  walks  the  fields  with  stately  grace, 
holding  high  converse  with  the  stars.  She  treads  the  valley 
glooms,  and  meadow  floors,  in  sweet  communion  with  streams,  and 
all  of  Nature’s  voiceless  messengers  cha'nting  of  God’s  universal 
love.  She  sings  her  songs  in  sunlight,  or  in  shadow;  at  morn¬ 
ing,  at  noontide,  or  at  evening  hour;  in  valleys  or  on  hill-tops. 
Everywhere  Nature’s  solemn  presence  inspires  to  holy  utterance — 
whether  silent  or  voiceful.  She  prints  her  lessons  on  every  living 
thing;  upon  solid  rocks  and  mottled  marble;  upon  every  imaginable 
form,  animate  or  inanimate.  Their  glory  beams  from  stars,  orbs, 
and  central  suns;  reflects  light  into  the  dark  corners  of  this  dark 
earth;  into  ocean’s  treasure-spread  floor;  upon  every  wavelet  of 
the  sea,  and  into  the  soul  of  all  life.  She  robes  earth  in  everchang- 
ing,  yet  unchanging  beauty;  she  thrills  the  sky  with  the  stern 
grandeur  of  her  purpose,  and  suspended  words  re-echo  her  com¬ 
mands.  The  grand,  crowned  mountains,  uplift  her  to  their  bold 
brave  brows,  and  her  eloquence  thrills  to  joy  the  circling  rounds 
above.  Night  is  vocal  with  her  presence  ;  da}r,  commanding  with 
her  majestic  soul.  Nowhere  is  there  contradiction  ;  nowhere  in¬ 
harmony  in  Nature’s  grand  oratorio.  No  false  transcript  of  thy  life, 
O  Truth!  in  the  vast  universe  of  Nature.  Science  demonstrates  thee 
peerless  in  thy  integrity.  Facts,  weighty  and  significant,  imprint 
their  evidence  upon  the  walls  of  earth  and  time.  Philosophy, 
with  higher  sense,  rolls  out  subjective  truths;  these  too,  are 
epics  of  the  Great  Eternal,  mingled  with  mysteries  of  the  celestial 
spheres.  Law,  potential  with  infinite  purpose,  and  positive  in  its 
authority,  asserts  the  sovereignty  of  truth  throughout  the  illim¬ 
itable  bounds  of  being.  0,  man!  teach  thy  soul  to  love  truth 
as  Nature  loves  it;  as  Spirit  loves  it;  as  God  loves  it;  for  only 
through  such  love  can  we  enter  the  inner  court  of  the  spiritual 
heavens;  only  through  such  love  can  we  establish  holiest  spirit¬ 
ual  communion,  like  conversings  of  white-robed  angels,  on  the 
beautiful  shores  of  the  Morning  Land;  only  through  such  love 
for  truth  and  equal  faithfulness  thereto,  can  we  ever  attain  to 
spiritual  clearness  of  vision  and  perfection  of  eternal  principles.” 

These  inspired  orations  by  young  women  and  the 
beautiful  mothers  of  America,  indicate  the  dawning  of 


THE  DEATH-BED. 


317 


better  times  oil  earth.  Men,  hitherto,  have  monopo¬ 
lized  the  pulpit  and  the  places  of  learning,  while 
women,  sitting  demurely  and  submissively  in  the  pews, 
have  had  their  “  rights  ”  presented  in  all  sorts  of 
shapes,  and  illustrated  in  all  sorts  of  ways  ;  presented  in 
prose  and  jingled  in  verse ;  joked  about  and  preached 
about ;  treated  lightly  and  solemnly,  sagaciously  and 
nonsensically.  But,  behold  !  “  The  old  heavens  and 

the  earth’’  have  passed  away,  and  the  “end”  of  one 
radical  error  has  come.  Look  all  around  you  :  Behold, 
how  in  the  public  places,  the  “Lords  of  Creation”  sit 
with  dignity  and  gratitude,  listening  to  the  inspired 
Queens  of  Nature ! 


115. 

DEATH-BED  OF  A  SPIRITUALIST. 

Orange,  N.  J.,  November  12,  1867. 

Mankind  have  been  presented,  through  orthodox 
publications,  with  unnumbered  instances  of  the  “  Death¬ 
bed  of  a  Christian,”  and  with  not  a  few  examples  of 
the  tragical  exit  of  unbelievers  from  the  stage  of  life. 
The  people  have  been  warned  by  earnest  and  anxious 
church  members  that  Spiritualism  “  might  do  to  live 
by,  but  not  to  die  by ;”  but,  metliinks,  there  is  no  more 
beautiful  instance  on  record  of  the  departure  of  a  spirit 
from  earth  than  the  following  touching  description  of 
this  “  quiet  and  holy  passover.” 

THE  TRANSFIGURATION. 

Great  sorrow  has  again  overtaken  us,  resulting  in 


318 


MEMORANDA. 


great  gain  to  one  of  my  mother’s  children.  A  dear 
sister,  Mrs.  D.,  whom  you  and  M.  met  at  our  house 
some  years  ago,  arrived  with  her  two  children  from 
South  America  about  three  months  since.  She  had 
been  some  months  in  the  tropics,  and  came  home  with 
the  fever  burning  in  her  veins.  Week  after  week  she 
suffered,  until  Christmas  day,  when  the  weary  spirit 
went  home  with  the  waiting  angels.  I  have  seen  many 
die,  happily,  calmly,  with  faith  and  hope,  willing  and 
resigned ;  but  never  before  saw  I  such  majesty  and 
glory  and  strength  as  sustained  my  dear  sister  Carrie 
in  her  upward  flight.  She  gave  full  directions  for  every 
thing  with  a  cleai*,  calm  realization  of  her  condition ; 
left  a  message  for  her  far-off  husband  still  in  South 
America;  instructed  her  children,  told  them  she  would 
come  to  them  and  care  for  them,  and  spoke  fully  to 
each  one  present. 

Then  she  asked  us,  as  Spiritualists,  to  suggest  any 
thing  that  might  be  instructive  to  her.  Remembering 
some  things  you  have  written,  I  told  her  not  to  linger 
here  when  free,  but  go  home  with  her  spirit  friends 
and  rest ;  then  to  come,  and  we  would  try  to  be  ready 
to  receive  her,  striving,  meanwhile,  not  to  attract  her. 
After  conversation  at  length  upon  this  subject,  she 
asked  us  to  sing  “  Summer  Land  and  broken  voices 
gave  forth  the  sweet  song,  with  chorus  accompaniment 
by  the  guitar.  The  sweet  little  girl,  so  soon  to  be 
motherless,  sang,  like  an  angel,  the  death  song.  Then  the 
pale  sufferer  desired  to  sleep.  We  adjusted  a  soft  hair 
pillow  beneath  her  head,  put  a  warm  blanket  next  her, 
left  a  window  open  near,  and  then  sat  down  to  watch  : 
no  groans,  no  sobbings  were  there  ;  all  felt  that  the 


THE  POET  TASSO. 


319 


passing  spirit  must  be  sustained,  and  not  disturbed  by 
our  grief.  A  short  time  she  slept  peacefully,  then  a 
pause  in  the  breathing,  another  breath — she  was  gone ! 
And,  now,  do  we  find  “ashes  on  the  hearth,’  and  a 
“smell  of  varnish  in  the  house?”  Oh,  no!  We  are 
lifted  up.  The  angels  have  been  with  us,  and  they  will 
come  often.  They  will  linger  over  the  little  home  that 
shelters  an  angel’s  children.  I  can  say  but  little  in 
a  letter,  but  could  not  omit  a  word  to  tell  you  how  joy¬ 
ful  is  our  mourning,  how  blessed  is  our  grief,  how  glo¬ 
rious  the  light  and  knowledge  of  our  religion  in  an  hour 
like  this. 


116. 

THE  POET  TASSO  AND  HIS  SPIRIT  FRIEND. 

Philadelphia,  November  18,  18G7. 

Mr.  Seymour  Kirkup,  of  Florence,  Italy,  in  a  transla¬ 
tion  for  the  London  Magazine ,  in  1862,  says:  Torquato 
Tasso  published  nothing  respecting  his  spiritual  experi¬ 
ences,  and  mentioned  them  to  but  few  of  his  friends. 
Among  the  nearest  and  most  trustworthy  of  his 
friends,  and  second  to  none,  was  Giambatista  Manso,  so 
acknowledged  by  Tasso  himself  in  his  verses,  in  his  let¬ 
ters,  his  dialogue,  and  in  the  J erusalem.  In  a  letter  by 
Manso,  when  Tasso  was  staying  with  him  at  Bisaccio, 
written  to  a  common  friend,  the  Principe  di  Conca, 
High  Admiral  of  the  kingdom  of  Naples,  he  gives,  after 
the  usual  compliments,  the  following  account  of  Tasso: — 
“  The  Signor  Torquato  has  become  a  great  sportsman, 
and  braves  the  coldness  of  the  season.  In  bad  weather 


320 


MEMORANDA. 


we  pass  the  time  in  music  and  singing,  and  lie  is  espe¬ 
cially  interested  with  these  improvisatori,  and  their  great 
facility,  in  which  he  says  nature  has  been  very  sparing 
to  him.  Sometimes  we  dance,  which  delights  him  much, 
with  these  ladies,  but  more  frequently  we  sit  talking 
round  the  tire,  and  often  have  fallen  on  the  subject  of 
that  spirit,  which  he  says  appears  to  him,  and  he  has  so 
described  it  to  me  that  I  know  not  what  to  say,  and  I 
doubt  sometimes  if  his  illusion  (_ frenesia )  will  not  drive 
me  mad.  I,  who  wished  to  relieve  him  from  what  I 
consider  an  intirmity,  have  shown  him  sometimes  with 
the  most  severe  reasoning,  that  these  visions  of  his  can 
not  be  real,  but  are  most  likely  formed  by  his  imagination, 
disturbed  by  vapors  of  melancholy,  which,  by  causing 
these  vain  phantasms,  make  him  see  things  that  are 
not,  and  most  likely  can  not  be.  This  spirit  of  his  is 
not  evil,  as  is  proved  by  a  thousand  signs,  such  as  its 
discourse  of  things  religious  and  devout,  and  persuading 
them,  and  besides  naming  the  most  holy  names  of  Jesus 
and  Maria,  with  reverence  for  the  cross  and  reliques  of 
the  saints,  as  he  himself  affirms,  and  above  all,  the  con¬ 
solation  and  comfort  which  it  leaves  behind,  contrary 
to  the  custom  of  evil  spirits.  I  tell  him,  on  the  contrary, 
that  it  can  not  either  be  an  angel,  because,  although  he  is 
a  Christian  and  a  virtuous  man,  and  even,  for  many  years 
past,  very  spiritual  ( spirituale ),  nevertheless,  these  favors 
of  apparitions  of  angels  are  not  conceded  to  men  of 
common  goodness,  but  to  the  perfect  and  holy  ( santi ) 
only,  so  that  it  would  be  presumption  to  believe  that 
this,  his  spirit,  were  an  angel,  as  it  would,  on  the  other 
hand,  be  an  injustice  ( ingiuria )  to  consider  it  was  a  de¬ 
mon.  Wherefore,  there  not  existing  any  other  sort,  of 


THE  POET  TASSO. 


32  L 


spirit  but  angels  and  demons,  and  this  being  neither,  it 
follows  that  this  which  appeal’s  to  him  is  no  real  spirit, 
but  rather  a  deception  of  the  fancy  ( fantastica  virtu) 
represented  to  him  as  apparent  (verisimile),  as  has  hap¬ 
pened  to  many  others,  and  especially  to  those  who  are 
afflicted  with  fixed  ideas  ( mirarchia ,  a  word  not  in  the 
Crusca)  as  he  bas  been.  To  which  he  replied  that  such 
wras  not  the  fact  (non  vero),  was  clearly  proved  from  the 
length  of  time  that  he  has  seen  these  apparitions,  and 
from  the  conformity  which  he  has  observed  in  them, 
which  could  not  continue  if  the  things  he  saw  were  not 
in  themselves  real,  but  only  figured  by  weak  imagina¬ 
tions  of  his  fancy.  Nor  could  its  reasonings  be  consistent 
with  each  other  ;  as  in  fantastic  visions  the  powers  of 
the  soul  do  not  operate  through  the  intellect,  and,  con¬ 
sequently,  can  not  have  between  themselves  any  con¬ 
sistency  ( correspondenza )  or  order,  as  is  seen  to  hap¬ 
pen  in  the  apparitions  of  fixed  thinkers  ( miriarchi - 
< tci ),  and  in  the  dreams  of  fever  patients,  and  the 
thoughts  of  drunken  men.  Likewise  he  says,  that  if  the 
things  heard  and  seen  by  him  were  fantastic  appear¬ 
ances  created  by  his  own  imagination,  they  could  not 
be  such  as  to  surpass  his  own  knowledge,  because  the 
imagination  is  caused  by  the  returning  ( rivolgimento ) 
of  the  same  fancies  ( fantasmi ),  and  of  the  kind  of 
things  already  learned,  which  are  retained  in  the  mem¬ 
ory,  but  that  in  the  long  and  continual  reasonings  held 
with  that  spirit,  he  has  heard  things  that  he  had  never 
before  heard,  nor  read,  nor  known,  and  that  other  men 
had  never  known ;  from  which  he  concludes  that  these 
visions  of  his  can  not  be  foolish  imaginations  of  the 
fancy,  but  rather  true  and  real  apparitions  of  some 

14* 


322 


MEMORANDA. 


spirit,  who,  whatever  be  the  cause,  allows  himself  to  be 
visibly  seen  by  him.  Which  things,  contradicted  and 
disputed  by  me,  led  us  one  day  to  such  a  point  that  he 
said  to  me,  ‘  Since  I  can  not  persuade  you  by  reason¬ 
ing,  I  will  undeceive  you  by  experience,  and  cause  you 
to  see  with  your  own  eyes  that  spirit  to  whom  you  will 
not  lend  your  belief  from  my  words.’ 

“  I  accepted  the  offer,  and  the  following  day  being 
together  without  other  company,  sitting  near  the  fire, 
he,  turning  his  eyes  towards  a  window,  and  keeping 
them  so  fixed  for  a  good  space  of  time,  so  that  on  my 
recalling  him  he  answered  nothing,  at  last  said, 
‘Here,  behold,  is  my  spirit-friend  who  has  courteously 
come  to  converse  with  me  ;  behold  him  (■ miratelo )  and 
you  will  see  the  truth  of  my  words.’  I  turned  my  eyes 
in  that  direction  immediately,  but,  however  much  I 
strained  them,  nothing  could  I  see  but  the  rays  of  the 
sun,  which  entered  the  room  through  the  glasses  of  the 
window.  And  whilst  I  turned  my  eyes  around  dis¬ 
covering  nothing,  I  heard  Torquato  engaged  in  the 
most  sublime  reasonings,  with  whomsoever  it  was,  so 
that  although  I  neither  saw  nor  heard  any  other  but 
himself,  nevertheless  his  words,  sometimes  questioning 
(proponendo)  and  sometimes  answering,  were  such  as 
occur  between  persons  in  close  reasoning  on  some  im¬ 
portant  subject ;  and  from  what  he  spoke  my  intellect 
easily  comprehended  what  was  said  to  him  in  reply, 
although  I  did  not  hear  it  with  my  ears ;  and  these 
rea3ortings  were  so  grand  and  wonderful  for  the  sub¬ 
limity  they  contained,  and  for  a  peculiar  mode  not  used 
in  conversation,  that  I  remained  under  a  strange  stupor 
raised  within  me,  and  did  not  dare  to  interrupt  them, 


TIIE  TOET  TASSO. 


323 


nor  to  ask  Torquato  any  questions  respecting  the  spirit 
whom  he  had  pointed  out  to  me,  and  whom  I  did  not  see. 
In  this  manner  we  remained  for  a  good  length  of  time, 
I  listening  half  stupefied  and  enchanted  ( yayhito ),  al¬ 
most  without  perceiving  it ;  and  at  the  end  of  which  the 
spirit  departing,  as  I  understood  from  Torquato’s  words, 
he,  turning  to  me,  said,  ‘  All  the  doubts  will  now  be  re¬ 
moved  from  your  mind.’  And  I  said  to  him,  ‘  On  the 
contrary,  they  are  increased,  for  many  things  I  have 
heard  worthy  of  admiration,  but  nothing  have  I  seen  of 
what  you  promised,  to  make  me  end  my  doubts  by  satis¬ 
fying  my  eyes.’  Smiling,  he  answered,  ‘  Much  more 

have  you  seen  and  heard  than  perhaps — ’ . 

and  here  he  stopped  (perhaps  he  would  have  added, 
Than,  perhaps,  you  will  confess) ;  and  I,  not  wishing 
to  importune  him  with  more  questions,  we  here  ended 
this  conversation,  from  which,  as  yet,  I  can  comprehend 
nothing  more  than  that  which  I  said  at  the  beginning, 
namely,  that  those  visions  of  his  or  deliriums  ( frenesia ) 
will  make  me  go  out  of  my  mind  {da  cirvello)  before  I 
can  remove  from  him  his  opinion  either  true  or  imagi¬ 
nary.” 

The  foregoing  letter  was  published  in  the  lifetime  of 
Manso,  and  of  many  other  witnesses  of  Tasso’s  adven¬ 
tures.  It  is  to  be  found  in  the  33d  vol.  of  the  Opera, 
Pisa,  1832,  in  8vo,  p.  172. 


324 


MEMORANDA. 


117. 

BIBLE  BELIEVERS  ENACTING  SCENES  OF  INDECENCY  AND 
INSANITY. 

Orange,  N.  J.,  Jk nuo.ry  25,  1868. 

The  entire  religious  press  of  the  country  has  charged 
to  the  account  of  the  millions  of  American  Spiritualists 
the  insane  and  nude  performances  of  some  three  or  four 
persons,  residing  in  Newark,  who  claim  to  believe  in 
mediumship  and  in  the  influence  of  spirits.  Justice  is 
slow,  but  sure.  In  yesterday’s  Tribune  it  is  recorded 
that  the  grossly  indecent  scene  in  Mr.  Ewen’s  house,  in 
Newark,  on  New  Year’s  night,  was  enacted  under 
somewhat  similar  circumstances  fifteen  years  ago,  in  a 
village  near  Zurich,  Switzerland.  An  abandoned 
woman  named  Ileinecke,  living  in  Diesikon,  a  hamlet 
near  Zurich,  connected  herself  with  a  sect  which  had 
sprung  up  in  the  district,  professing  principles  similar 
to  those  of  the  Latter-Day  Saiuts.  Some  men  became 
attached  to  this  avoid  an,  and  lived  with  her  in  open 
profligate  intercourse.  Reinecke  becoming  pregnant, 
gave  out  to  these  men  that  she  would  bring  forth  a  son, 
who  should  be  the  Christ,  and  called  upon  them  to 
make  this  known  among  the  sect  to  which  they  belonged. 
They  accordingly  declared  in  the  assembly  of  the  Saints 
that  the  Old  Testament  prophecies  had  not  been  fill- 


BIBLE  BELIEVERS  ENACTING  SCENES. 


325 


filled,  and  that  the  Virgin  who  was  to  bear  a  Son  was 
the  woman  Reinecke.  Reinecke’s  child,  however, 
proved  to  be  a  girl.  Having  hidden  the  infant,  Rei- 
neeke  proclaimed  herself  the  Christ  incarnate. 

At  the  woman’s  request  some  of  the  men,  who  had 
connected  themselves  with  Reinecke’s  followers,  assem¬ 
bled  one  evening  in  her  room,  bringing  large  crops  of 
wooden  planks,  to  which  they  nailed  her  hands  and 
feet,  the  woman  promising,  meantime,  that  she  would 
remain  three  days  and  nights  crucified,  suffering  neithei 
death  nor  pain;  and  that  on  the  third  night,  if  they 
would  assemble  in  the  room,  she  would  descend  to 
them  from  the  cross,  of  her  own  free  will.  These  mad¬ 
men  complied  with  Reinecke’s  directions,  and  return¬ 
ing  on  the  third  evening  found  her  dead  on  the  cross. 
Some  of  the  men  fled  from  the  country,  two  were  in¬ 
carcerated  for  life,  and  one  was  guillotined.  The  child 
who  was  to  have  been  the  man  Christ,  is  a  poor  servant 
in  a  hamlet  near  Wallisellen. 

They  have  a  scandal  nearly  of  similar  character  in 
Somersetshire,  England.  A  clergyman  named  Prince 
had  a  parish  between  Bridgewater  and  Taunton.  He 
was  a  scholar  and  good  preacher,  as  far  as  delivery  and 
composition  go.  He  sometimes  inculcated  strange 
dogmas,  and  his  doctrinal  enunciations  from  the  pulpit 
became  more  bizarre  on  each  succeeding  Sunday,  until 
at  last  the  Rev.  Mr.  Prince  announced  to  his  surprised 
hearers  that  the  Saviour  of  the  world  was  embodied  in 
his  reverend  person  ;  that  he  was  the  Prince  for  them  ; 
and  that  those  who  would  believe  in  him  should  surely 
go  to  heaven.  A  certain  Miss  L.,  an  accomplished  and 
beautiful  young  woman,  who  had  attended  this  bias- 


326 


MEMORANDA. 


pkemous  divine’s  ministrations,  was  the  first  convert  to 
the  new  religion.  Miss  S.  soon  found  a  co-religionist  in 
a  rich  married  woman.  With  the  wealth  which  these 
infatuated  women  placed  in  Prince’s  hands,  this  pre¬ 
tender  built  a  large  house,  witli  a  chapel  in  the  center, 
and  a  conservatory,  in  extensive  grounds — naming  his 
paradise  the  Agapemone,  or  abode  of  Love.  Into  this 
abode  Prince  and  his  converts  retired.  The  condi¬ 
tions  of  entrance  to  the  Agapemone,  and  of  securing 
salvation  were,  that  the  candidate  should  he  well  sup¬ 
plied  with  the  one  thing  needful  to  Prince,  money,  and 
if  they  were  married  men,  having  their  wives,  that  they 
should  agree  to  the  rules  of  the  house,  i.  e.,  to  have  all 
things  in  common.  For  years  the  Agapemone  flour¬ 
ished,  quite  a  numerous  body  of  Princeites  having  taken 
up  their  residence  in  this  abode  of  immorality.  Married 
women  quit  their  husbands  to  follow  Prince,  and  gave 
him  their  property,  and  a  few  disreputable  clergymen 
and  men  of  property  also  joined  his  society.  Prince 
began  his  establishment  in  style.  The  house  was 
furnished  luxuriously,  and  the  richest  exotics  were  in 
the  conservatory.  He  drove  in  an  elegant  equipage, 
with  four  horses  and  outriders,  two  men  running  by  the 
carriage  with  spears,  and  when  he  left  the  Agapemone 
his  converts  and  domestics  bowed  before  him.  The 
Agapemone  is  now  comparatively  deserted  ;  the  four- 
in-hand  has  been  replaced  by  a  one-horse  brougham  : 
money  is  scarcer,  and  women  become  converted  less 
frequently.  Last  November  a  woman  who  had  quit 
her  husband  to  become  a  Princeite,  was  claimed  by  her 
husband  at  the  Agapemone.  Mr.  M.  found  the  iron 
doors  closed,  and  admittance  was  denied  him.  He 


CHURCH  TRIAL. 


327 


went  to  Bridgewater  and  asked  assistance.  An  indig¬ 
nant  populace  accompanied  him  to  the  Agapemone 
and  assailed  the  doors  with  crow-bars,  forcing  an  en¬ 
trance.  Mrs.  M.  was  not  found,  Prince  having  gone 
with  his  convert  on  a  trip  to  the  South.  Air.  M.  ascer¬ 
tained  his  wife’s  whereabouts  about  a  month  after  her 
conversion,  at  which  time  her  belief  in  Prince  was  not 
to  be  shaken,  and  she  refused  to  return  to  her  husband 
from  Prince’s  Paradise. 


118. 

AN  EPISCOPALIAN  CHURCH  TRIAL  IN  NEW  YORK. 

Orange,  N.  J.,  February  12,  1868. 

I  have  just  returned  from  the  great  city.  .  .  .  New 
York  streets  are  covered  with  mud,  and  I  fear  the  ef¬ 
fect  thereof  is  felt  by  certain  great  men  in  the  lucrative 
calling  of  teaching  the  Episcopalian  forms  of  the 
“  meek  and  lowly.”  A  young  minister,  Mr.  Tyng,  is 
being  put  through.  The  place  chosen  for  the  extra¬ 
ordinary  trial  is  graced  by  the  presence  of  many  re¬ 
spectable  citizens.  It  should  be  known  in  these  parts 
by  the  name  of  “Vatican” — a  dingy  Vestry  Hall  be¬ 
neath  the  grandiloquent  meeting-house  of  York — 
wreathed  with  pictures  by  the  worst  masters,  on  the 
time-honored  and  holy  art  of  religious  persecution. 
The  princely  Pilate  of  old,  with  his  query,  “  What  is 
truth  ?”  would  grow  large  writh  satisfaction  within 
these  suspicious  and  proscriptive  courts.  Coroners' 
verdicts,  records  of  ecclesiastical  sessions,  and  frightful 
indications  of  every  evil  deed,  seem  to  fill  with  poison 


328 


MEMORANDA. 


the  atmosphere  in  the  neighborhood  of  this  hall. 
There  is  here,  too,  somewhat  of  those 

“ - Thick  and  gloomy  shadows  damp, 

Oft  seen  in  charnel  vaults  and  sepulchers, 

Lingering  and  sitting  by  a  new-made  grave.” 

Very  grand,  however,  is  the  upholstered,  castle-like 
sanctuary  overhead ;  from  which  heavenward  soar 
millions  of  literary  prayers  every  year  in  seventh-day 
installments — never  in  violation  of  the  rules  of  the 
Prayer-hook!  This  sacred  place  (historically  speak¬ 
ing)  will  swim  in  golden  seas  of  evangelical  glory. 
Visions  of  eternal  conservatism  will  fall  dream-like 
upon  the  thronging  multitudes  who  worship  there.  .  .  . 
Every  Sunday  the  great  organ  peals  its  thundering 
tones  along  the  lofty  ceiling,  and  the  dim  magical  dark¬ 
ness  shed  by  the  holy  lights  conspire  to  fill  with  en¬ 
thusiasm  the  devotee’s  imagination.  Beneath  all  this 
grandeur  and  bewildering  beauty  history  will  see  a 
black-painted  subterranean  “  Chamber  of  Justice,”  in 
the  presence  of  one- sided  judges  and  prejudiced  minis¬ 
ters.  ...  I  believe  this  extraordinary  performance  is 
dignified  with  the  appellation  of  “  a  church  trial.”  It 
is  worse  than  a  mixed  compound  of  law,  physic,  and 
divinity ;  the  stuff  generally  taken  in  desperate  cases, 
when  all  milder  medicines  fail  and  u  doctors  disagree.” 
I,  however,  should  christen  this  proceeding  “  aD 
ecclesiastical-civil  suit,”  wholly  unsuitable  and  abomin¬ 
ably  illegal;  and  I  think  Mr.  Tyng  will  come  out 

Note. — In  1859,  at  the  house  of  Dr.  Bartlett,  in  Aurora,  Ill.,  the 
author  wrote,  under  the  nom  de  plume  of  “  Philo  Hermes,”  a  satire  in 
point,  entitled,  “  An  Extraordinary  Church  Trial.” 


OIHTRCH  TRIAL. 


329 


stronger  and  better.  .  .  .  They  proceed  ill  due  form  to 
set  forth,  and  to  call  upon  him  to  answer  and  to  refute 
the  grievous  sin  against  their  holy  religion,  and  the 
monstrous  infractions  and  pernicious  contempt  of  the 
customs  and  moral  well-being  of  the  Episcopal  Church! 
Mr.  Tyng!  Sir:  It  is  charged  that  you  have  officiated 
at  unevangelical  places  of  worship;  also  declined  to 
ask  leave  of  ministers  of  the  church  whether  you 
might  perform  such  Sabbath  services :  instead  whereof, 
you  have  taken  and  do  still  take  every  occasion  to  act 
independently  of  the  ministry,  and  to  teach  our  doc¬ 
trines  wrongfully  in  the  Methodist  Church  ! 

Mr.  Parker,  according  to  the  reporter,  opened  for  the 
respondent :  Is  he  charged  with  any  offense  against 
the  laws  of  God?  Is  he  charged  with  doing  aught  to 
injure  the  ministers  who  complain  against  him?  The 
charge  is,  that,  being  a  minister  of  the  Gospel,  he 
preached  the  Gospel ;  that,  being  a  minister  of  the 
Church,  he  preached  the  Church  ;  that  he  carried  it, 
with  its  Liturgy,  to  those  who,  but  for  him,  had  it  not, 
or,  at  least,  had  it  not  in  the  perfection  in  which  he 
placed  it  before  them.  And  although  he  was  compelled 
by  the  necessities  of  the  occasion  not  to  ask  responses 
from  those  who  had  no  books  with  which  to  make  them, 
and  even  to  omit  the  Litany,  which  he  would  have 
loved  to  use  before  that  or  any  other  congregation  that 
might  assemble ;  although  compelled  to  make  these 
omissions  from  want  of  the  aids  to  those  devotions  which 
the  presence  of  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer  among 
our  own  congregations  gives,  yet  ho  did  not  violate 
the  canon  to  which  the  learned  gentleman  who  has  just 
closed  (Mr.  Logan),  alluded.  He  obeyed  it — he  used 


330 


MEMORANDA. 


the  Book  of  Common  Prayer.  Take  the  language  of 
the  canon,  and  analyze  it  as  you  will— he  performed 
every  thing  that  was  incumbent  upon  him.  Ay,  it  is 
for  preaching  the  Gospel,  and  for  carrying  the  Church 
with  him  and  preaching  it,  that  he  stands  now  before 
this  court  and  the  country  an  accused  instead  of  an 
applauded  man.  [Applause.]  And  all  the  harm  that 
he  has  done,  all  the  offense  he  has  committed,  is  that 
he  did  not  preach  the  Gospel  and  the  Church  with  the 
consent  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Stubbs,  or  of  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Boggs  [laughter] — gentlemen,  who  know  that  when  I 
mention  their  names  I  do  it  with  no  disrespect.  They 
are  my  friends.  I  can  truly  say  that  I  love  them 
personally ;  but  I  can  likewise  say  that  I  think  that  they 
have  here  committed  a  grand  ecclesiastical  blunder. 
I  can  say  that  to  them  as  churchmen  and  as  men  of  the 
Gospel :  Had  they,  instead  of  taking  this  course,  aided 
Mr.  Tyng  in  carrying  their  Church  to  that  congregation 
of  Methodists — ay,  aided  him,  even  if  they  thought 
that  he  might  be  able  to  do  it  every  Sunday  of  his  life, 
what  would  have  been  the  result?  But  the  charge 
comes  back,  “  You  did  this;  you  preached  God’s  Word 
without  first  obtaining  the  consent  of  Stubbs  and  Boggs, 
and  thereupon  you  are  an  ecclesiastical  felon.”  The 
first,  last,  perpetual  duty  of  a  minister  is  to  preach  the 
Gospel.  When  the  Church  was  established  it  was  not 
for  the  simple  preservation  of  a  conventional  polite¬ 
ness  between  individuals ;  and  if  the  respondent  had 
courteously  applied  to  the  reverend  ministry  of  Hew 
Brunswick  for  permission  to  preach  there,  and  had 
been  refused,  it  would  still  have  been  his  duty  to  go 
there  and  preach.  The  Saviour  did  not  stand  on  cere- 


CHURCH  TRIAL. 


331 


mony  when  he  went  to  the  Synagogue.  The  counsel 
denied  that  respondent  had  violated  the  canon  ;  held  the 
offense,  if  it  may  he  so  called,  has  been  committed  scores 
of  times ;  and  that  never  before  in  seventy-five  years 
has  a  court  been  called  on  to  try  a  similar  case.  There 
are  thousands  of  cases  in  which  a  minister  is  called  upon 
to  officiate  where  it  would  be  impossible,  or  even 
wicked,  for  him  to  wait  for  the  permission  of  the  minis¬ 
ter  of  the  parish.  Should  one  of  this  reverend  court 
be  invited  by  either  of  the  others  to  officiate  for  him 
next  Sunday,  could  he  do  it  without  the  express  permis¬ 
sion  of  a  majority?  In  Hew  Brunswick,  Drs.  Stubbs 
and  Boggs  are  the  only  ministers  of  this  Church.  One 
of  them  wishes  one  of  this  court  to  preach  for  him. 
Can  he  lawfully  do  it  unless  the  other  likewise  consent? 
One  of  you  has  a  brother,  perhaps,  residing  in  New 
Brunswick.  He  falls  sick,  and  desires  your  services. 
You  long  to  give  them  ;  must  you  not  first  run  to  the 
house  of  Messrs.  Stubbs  and  Boggs  to  get  their  express 
permission?  [Laughter.]  I  do  not  wonder  at  the 
laugh,  and  I  am  pleased  that  the  chairman  agrees  with 
me.  When  a  literal  interpretation  is  given  to  this 
canon,  it  is  sheer  nonsense.  [Renewed  laughter.]  Or 
perhaps  you  have  a  sister  there  who  belongs  to  the 
Methodist  denomination,  and  who  is  about  to  be  mar¬ 
ried  ;  she  desires  you  to  join  her  in  holy  matrimony. 
Must  you  first  get  the  express  permission  of  Stubbs  and 

Boggs? . Verily,  the  ‘‘Church”  is  an 

institution  of  the  Past — full  of  Stubbs,  Boggs,  and  ob¬ 
structions.  Amen. 


332 


MEMORANDA. 


119. 

QUESTIONS  FOR  SUNDAY-SCHOOL  ANNIVERSARIES 

Orange,  N.  J.,  February  13, 1868. 

The  trial  (Episcopalian)  now  proceeding  in  New 
York,  brings  to  mind  some  very  curious  way -side  notes 
recorded  in  1859: — Rev.  Jerusalem  Stubbs  was  next 
called  by  the  prosecution.  He  was  much  fleshy  and 
much  excited.  Being  sworn  and  interrogated,  he  said  : 
**  Am  a  minister  of  the  High  Church  of  England  ;  a  link 
in  the  unbroken  chain  of  calendar  Saints;  a  member  of 
the  Divine  Order  of  the  Holy  Ghost ;  a  believer  in  the 
Church’s  power  to  work  miracles,  such  as  the  forgive¬ 
ness  of  sins  [never  committed],  the  feeding  of  thousands 
with  five  loaves  of  bread  [providing  of  course  the  loaves 
are  large  enough  to  go  round],  and  lastly,  that  the 
Church  can  support  the  finest  livery,  and  may  boast  of 
the  most  accomplished  class  of  purely  genteel  saints. 
Am  acquainted  with  philology ;  can  read  Hebrew, 
Greek,  Latin,  and  French.”  [Of  course  he  expects  a 
bishopric.] 

In  order  to  establish  the  reputation  of  the  worthy 
Dr.  Stubbs,  and  to  add  weight  to  his  testimony,  the 
attorney  asked  him  to  give  some  illustrations  and  refer¬ 
ences,  biblical  or  otherwise,  showing  his  knowledge  to 
be  accurate,  classical,  and  extensive.  This  permission 


QUESTIONS  FOR  SUNDAY. 


333 


or  question  fired  the  reverend  gentleman’s  breast  with 
new  zeal,  and  he  responded  :  “Perhaps,  sir,  you  have 
not  seen  my  list  of  questions,  prepared  with  great  dili¬ 
gence  and  learning,  for  a  Sunday-School  Anniversary?” 
The  court  signified  that  it  had  not  had  that  great  profit 
and  pleasure.  “Then,”  resumed  the  witness,  “see  the 
Boston  Liberator  for  February  1,  1856,  wherein  Mr.  J. 
Cushing,  of  South  Hingham,  Mass.,  had  the  justice  to 
report  my  scriptural  labors  as  follows : — 

If  any  one  doubts  that  the  Church  is  engaged  in  a 
great  work,  let  him  read  the  following  list  of  questions, 
prepared  and  published  for  the  anniversary  meeting  of 
the  Sunday-School  in  a  neighboring  town  : — 

1.  What  was  the  name  of  the  giant  who  had  twenty- 
four  fingers  and  toes?  20th  Chron. 

2.  What  person  had  a  nail  driven  through  his  head  ? 
4th  Judges. 

3.  Who  wore  a  garment  that  had  no  seam?  19th 
John. 

4.  What  distinguished  man’s  sons  had  bonnets  made 
for  them  ?  28th  Exodus. 

5.  There  is  only  one  woman  whose  age  is  mentioned 

in  the  Bible ;  what  was  her  name  ?  23d  Genesis. 

6.  How  many  pitchers  were  broken  by  an  army  of 
men?  What  was  in  them?  7th  Judges. 

7.  Where  in  the  Bible  is  there  an  account  of  a  tem¬ 
perance  society?  Who  belonged  to  it?  35th  Jere¬ 
miah. 

8.  How  many  persons  lapped  water  with  their 
tongues,  like  the  dogs  ?  7th  Judges. 

9.  Who  plowed  with  twelve  yoke  of  oxen  ?  1 

Kings,  chap.  19th. 


334 


MEMORANDA. 


10.  Who  was  it  had  thirty  sons  and  thirty  daughters  ? 
12th  Judges.” 

By  the  distinguished  counsel  it  was  held  that  the 
foregoing  questions  must  forever  put  at  rest  the  insinu¬ 
ation  that  the  Episcopal  Sunday-School  is  not  doing  a 
mighty  work  for  the  redemption  of  the  world.  The 
man  who  plowed  with  twelve  yoke  of  oxen,  our  chil¬ 
dren  should  keep  in  everlasting  remembrance ;  and  a 
family  of  thirty  sons  and  thirty  daughters  in  our  day 
should  excite  physiological  interest,  if  nothing  more. 
And  then,  too,  the  name  of  the  giant  who  had  twenty- 
four  fingers  and  toes :  how  momentous  such  ancient 
knowledge  ! 

In  order  to  induce  a  laudable  degree  of  religious  in¬ 
quiry  in  Methodist  Sabbath-Schools,  I  will  suggest  a 
few  questions,  perhaps  equally  important,  which  may 
serve  them  for  an  anniversary  occasion  like  the  one 
just  alluded  to  : — 

1.  How  old  was  the  Shunamite  damsel  who  minis¬ 
tered  to  King  David’s  necessities  ? 

2.  ITow  much  oil  did  Zadok  the  priest  use  in  anoint¬ 
ing  Solomon,  after  he  rode  his  father’s  mule  down  to 
Gihon  ? 

3.  What  was  the  expense  of  Elijah’s  board  per  day, 
when  fed  by  the  ravens  at  the  brook  Cherith  ? 

4.  What  was  the  name  of  the  man  who  drew  a  bow 
at  a  venture,  and  smote  the  King  of  Israel  between  the 
joints  of  the  harness? 

5 . But,  why  multiply  questions  for  chil¬ 

dren  in  orthodox  Sunday-Schools.  The  Bible  and  the 
Catechism  are  replete  with  suggestions . 

A  little  moral  may  be  drawn  from  the  following  story, 


INVESTIGATION. 


335 


which  may  be  useful  to  Sabbath-School  superintendents 
and  teachers : — 

A  boy  of  more  natural  brightness  than  some  who  are 
better  educated,  was  asked,  “  Where  do  you  go  to  Sun¬ 
day  School,  Jimmy  ?” 

“  Why,  marra,  I  go  to  Baptisses,  and  Methodisses, 
and  the  Presbyteriums,  but  I’ve  been  trying  the  ’Pisco- 
pals  for  two  or  three  weeks.” 

“  You  don’t  seem  to  belong  any  where,  then,  Jimmy.” 

“  Why,  yes,  marra,  don’t  you  see,  I  belongs  to  ’em 
exceptin’  the  ’  Piscopals,  but  I’m  going  to  jine  them, 
too,  now.” 

“Well,  Jimmy,  what’s  your  idea  in  going  to  so 
many  ?” 

“  Why,  you  see,  I  gits  a  little  of  what’s  going  on  at 
’em  all,  marm.  I  gits  liberies,  and  hymn-books,  and 
all  that ;  and  when  they  have  picnics,  I  goes  to  every 
one  of  ’em.” 


130. 

THE  SPIRIT  OF  INVESTIGATION. 

Orange,  N.  J.,  February  14,  1868. 

This  morning's  mail  brings  to  me  a  city  magazine  of 
some  influence,  containing  quotations  from  an  old  as¬ 
sault  on  Spiritualism,  some  years  ago,  published  in 
Blackwood.  To  that  very  calumnious  article  I  would 
apply  the  concluding  paragraphs  of  a  rejoinder  by  the 
truth-loving  William  llowitt.  In  his  reply,  Mr.  Howitt 
first  details  positive  facts ,  which  convinced  him  that 


336 


MEMORANDA. 


the  sprits  do  cause  the  real  manifestations,  and  then 
proceeds : — 

These,  sir,  I  think,  will  be  admitted,  “  according  to 
strict  scientific  method,”  to  be  a  complete  refutation  of 
the  statements  of  Blackwood  &  Co. ;  and  in  conclusion  I 
will  beg  to  remind  these  gentlemen  of  the  press,  that  the 
very  same  things  which  they  now  assert  of  Spiritualism 
were  said  of  Christianity,  for  above  one  hundred  years 
after  its  appearance ;  ay,  far  worse  things.  The  Chris¬ 
tians  were  held  by  the  Greek  and  Latin  illustrissirni ',  not 
only  as  the  grossest  impostors,  but  as  the  most  vile  and 
degraded  of  men.  The  practices  attributed  to  them 
were  too  revolting  for  modern  language.  Christianity 
was  the  superstitio  prava  of  Pliny  the  Younger ;  the 
exitiabilis  superstitio  of  Tacitus ;  the  Christians  were 
the  c‘  homines  per  fiagitiis  invisos ”  of  that  historian. 
Every  classical  reader  can  lay  his  hand  on  these  state¬ 
ments. 

These  are  the  calumnies  which  truth  has,  in  every 
age,  to  endure.  Take  the  very  highest  philosophical 
authority  of  Greece — Plato.  He  makes  Socrates,  in 
Eutyphron,  say :  “  And  we,  too,  when  I  say  any  thing 
in  the  public  assembly  concerning  divine  things,  and 
predict  to  them  what  is  going  to  happen,  they  ridicule 
me  as  mad  ;  and  although  nothing  that  I  ever  have  pre¬ 
dicted  has  not  turned  out  to  be  true,  yet  they  envy  all 
such  men  as  we  are.  However,  we  ought  not  to  heed 
them,  but  pursue  our  own  course.” 

How  precisely  identical  are  the  truth,  and  the  ene¬ 
mies  of  the  truth,  in  every  age  of  the  world !  Sir,  I 
am  a  man  who  all  my  life  have  hated  humbug,  and  have, 
at  whatever  cost,  dared  to  expose  it  without  hiding  my 


INVESTIGATION. 


337 


head  under  the  anonymous.  In  my  early  years  I  had 
ray  blow  at  priestcraft.  I  am  not  one  of  those  who 
think  it  wise  to  jeer  at  what  I  do  not  take  the  trouble 
to  examine.  Some  years  ago  I  heard  some  very  wonder¬ 
ful  things  of  gold-finding  in  Australia.  I  determined 
to  go  and  examine  how  far  these  fine  stories  were  true. 
I  did  not  think  the  way  to  come  at  the  truth  was  to  shy 
an  article  at  it  from  a  journal  without  going  near  it.  I 
got  a  real  spade,  and  dug  in  real  earth,  and  I  and  my 
sons  found  one  of  the  finest  gold-fields  in  Victoria — 
Nine  Mile  Creek — in  consequence  of  which  my  son  is 
at  this  moment  heading  a  government  expedition  of 
discovery  in  that  colony.  I  got  as  much  gold  with  my 
own  hands  as  would  have  knocked  any  man  down  who 
should  have  said  it  was  imaginary.  Well,  I  am  just 
as  sure  of  the  facts  of  Spiritualism  as  I  am  of  those  of 
gold-finding.  If  I  were  to  go  to  Lord  Campbell  and  tell 
him  that  I  knew  more  about  the  business  of  the  Court  of 
Chancery  than  he  did,  be  would  laugh  at  me  ;  and  if 
Lord  Campbell  came  to  me  and  said  he  knew  more 
about  the  phenomena  of  Spiritualism  than  I  do,  after 
years  of  examination,  I  should  laugh  at  him ;  and  we 
should  both  laugh  on  the  same  good  grounds  at  the 
other  talking  of  things  that  he  had  not  thoroughly 
sifted  to  a  man  who  had. 

I  have  sifted  these  things  for  five  years.  I  have  wit¬ 
nessed  nearly  all  the  varieties  of  extraordinary  things 
seen  in  this  country,  and  often  in  private  houses  of  the 
highest  character  where  no  professional  medium  was 
present.  The  facts  of  Spiritualism  are,  therefore,  to  me, 
common-places,  and  as  positive  as  a  stone  wall.  Let 
the  opponents,  instead  of  blustering  and  talking  the 

15 


338 


MEMORANDA. 


sheerest  nonsense,  sift  these  things  for  five  years,  and 
then  they  may  cavil  if  they  please.  The  writer  in 
Blackwood  thinks  Spiritualism  the  “  disgrace  of  the 
age I,  on  the  contrary,  think  the  disgrace  of  the  age 
is  the  want  of  faith  in  people’s  own  senses,  and  the  want 
of  courage  to  make  use  of  them. 

Of  the  higher  and  more  sacred  teachings  of  Spiritu¬ 
alism,  and  its  numerous  phases — for  this  movement  of 
tables  is  but  one,  and  one  of  the  least — I  could  say 
much,  but  I  confine  myself  here  to  the  refutation  of  a 
most  transparent  calumny. 


121. 

PRE-EXISTENCE,  OR  REINCARNATION. 

Orange,  N.  J.,  February  16,  1868. 

Two  hours  of  this  beautiful,  crispy,  winter  morning 
have  been  given  to  conversation  with  visitors  concern¬ 
ing  the  doctrine  of  learned  French  Spiritualists  who 
strenuously  inculcate  the  “  eternal  past  individuality  of 
every  human  being.”  During  the  conversation,  many 
historical  references  were  made  (see  “  Mysteries  of  Life, 
Death,  and  Futurity,  by  IT.  Welby)  to  substantiate  the 
theory.  It  was  shown  that  Mede,  in  chap.  III.  of  hir 
Mystery  of  Godliness ,  combats  the  vulgar  opinion  of  a 
“  daily  creation  of  souls  ”  at  the  time  the  bodies  are 
produced  which  they  are  to  inform.  He  calls  “  the 
reasonable  doctrine  ”  of  pre-existence  “  a  key  for  some 
of  the  main  mysteries  of  Providence,  which  no  other 
can  so  handsomely  unlock.”  Sir  Harry  Vane  is  said 


REINCARNATION. 


339 


by  Burnet  to  liave  maintained  this  doctrine.  Joseph 
Glanvil,  Hector  of  Bath  (the  friend  of  Meric  Casaubon 
and  of  Baxter,  and  a  metaphysician  of  singular  vigor 
and  acuteness),  published  in  1662,  but  without  his  name, 
a  treatise  to  prove  the  reasonableness  of  the  doctrine. 
It  was  afterward  republished,  with  annotations,  by 
Dr.  Henry  More. 

In  1762,  the  Rev.  Capel  Berrow  published  “  A  Pre¬ 
existent  Lapse  of  Human  Souls  Demonstrated  and  in 
the  European  Magazine  for  September,  1801,  is  a  letter 
from  Bishop  Warburton  to  the  author,  in  which  he 
says :  “  The  idea  of  a  pre-existence  has  been  espoused 
by  many  learned  and  ingenious  men  in  every  age,  as 
bidding  fair  to  resolve  many  difficulties.” 

Southey,  in  his  published  Letters,  says :  u  I  have  a 
strong  and  lively  faith  in  a  state  of  continued  conscious¬ 
ness  from  this  stage  of  existence,  and  that  we  shall  re¬ 
cover  the  consciousness  of  some  lower  stages  through 
which  we  may  previously  have  passed  seems  to  me  not 
improbable.”  Again :  “  The  system  of  progressive  ex¬ 
istence  seems,  of  all  others,  the  most  benevolent ;  and 
all  that  we  do  understand  is  so  wise  and  so  good,  and 
all  we  do  or  do  not,  so  perfectly  and  overwhelmingly 
wonderful,  that  the  most  benevolent  system  is  the  most 
probable.”  Every  one  is  familiar  with  the  traces  of  belief 
in  this  doctrine  in  Wordsworth’s  “  Ode  on  the  Intima¬ 
tion  of  I m mortal ity  in  Childhood,”  in  the  lines  beginning 
“  Our  birth  is  but  a  sleep  and  a  forgetting.” 

In  Chambers's  Edinburgh  Journal ,  Ho.  93,  New 
Series,  this  “  Sentiment  of  Pre-existence”  is  stated  to 
have  been  first  described  by  Sir  Walter  Scott;  this 
may  be  correct  as  to  the  expression.  Scott,  it  will  be 


340 


MEMORANDA. 


remembered,  was  highly  susceptible  upon  psychological 
matters.*  The  description  is  thrown  into  the  mouth 
of  Henry  Bertram  on  his  return  to  Ellangowan  Castle  : 
‘‘  How  often,”  he  says,  “  do  we  find  ourselves  in  society 
which  we  have  never  before  met,  and  yet  feel  impressed 
with  a  mysterious  and  ill-defined  consciousness  that 
neither  the  scene,  the  speakers,  nor  the  subject  are 
entirely  new ;  nay,  feel  as  if  we  could  anticipate  that 
part  of  the  conversation  which  has  not  yet  taken  place !’’ 

. We  find  the  following  entry  in 

Scott’s  diary,  under  the  date  February  17,  1828 

“I  can  not,  I  am  sure,  tell  if  it  is  worth  marking  clown,  that 
yesterday,  at  dinner-time,  I  was  strongly  haunted  by  what  I  would 
call  the  sense  of  pre-existence,  in  a  confirmed  idea  that  nothing 
which  passed  was  said  for  the  first  time  ;  that  the  same  topics 
had  been  discussed,  and  the  same  persons  had  stated  the  same 
opinions  on  them  .  .  .  The  sensation  was  so  strong  as  to  re¬ 

semble  what  is  called  mirage  in  the  desert,  or  a  calenture  on 
board  a  ship  ...  It  was  very  distressing  yesterday,  and 
brought  to  my  mind  the  fancies  of  Bishop  Berkeley  about  an 
ideal  world.  There  was  a  vile  sense  of  want  of  reality  in  all  I 
did  and  said. — Lockhart's  Life  of  Scott." 

Sir  Bulwer  Lytton,  in  his  Godolphin,  thus  notices 
this  day-dream  : — 

“How  strange  it  is  that  at  times  a  feeling  comes  over  us,  as  we 
gaze  upon  certain  places,  which  associates  the  scene  either  with 
some  (lisremembered  and  dream-like  images  of  the  Past,  or  with  a 
prophetic  and  fearful  omen  of  the  future  !  .  .  .  Every  one 

*  In  this  volume  all  theorizing,  and  all  mere  speculations  on  disputed 
points  ol  philosophy,  are  deemed  out  of  place.  Therefore,  for  the  author’s 
impressions  on  tins  subject,  the  reader  is  referred  to  his  different  works, 
more  especially  to  the  “  Thinker,”  Gt.  Har.  vol.  v.  Part  III,  on  the 
“  Lawof  Immortality. 


REINCARNATION'. 


341 

has  known  a  similar  strange,  indistinct  feeling,  at  certain  times 
and  places,  and  with  a  similar  inability  to  trace  the  cause.” 

Elsewhere  the  same  writer  describes  the  same  feeling 
of  reminiscence  as  “  that  strange  kind  of  inner  and 
spiritual  memory  which  often  recalls  to  us  places  and 
persons  we  have  never  seen  before,  and  which  Platonists 
would  resolve  to  be  the  unquenched  and  struggling  con¬ 
sciousness  of  a  former  life.”  In  fewer  words,  the  feel¬ 
ing  may  be  described  as  seeing  and  hearing,  apparently 
for  the  first  time,  what  we  have  seen  or  heard  before, 
though  our  reason  assures  us  of  the  contrary.  Can  any 
thing  be  more  expressive  of  the  sameness  of  human  ex¬ 
istence  ? 

In  one  place  Tennyson  touches  upon  a  like  experi¬ 
ence,  thus : 

“  Moreover  something  is,  or  seems, 

That  teaches  me  with  mystic  gleams, 

Like  glimpses  of  forgotten  dreams — 

Of  something  felt,  like  something  here; 

Of  something  done,  I  know  not  where; 

Such  as  no  language  may  declare.” 

Mr.  Dickens,  an  extremely  imaginative  and  tragedy- 
loving  writer,  in  his  Pictures  from  Italy ,  mentions  this 
instance  on  his  first  sight  of  Ferrara  ; 

“  On  the  foreground  was  a  group  of  silent  peasant  girls,  leaning 
over  the  parapet  of  a  little  bridge,  looking  now  up  at  the  sky,  now 
down  into  the  water ;  in  the  distance  a  deep  bell;  the  shadow  of 
approaching  night  on  every  thing.  If  I  had  been  murdered  there 
on  some  former  life  I  could  not  have  seemed  to  remember  the 
place  more  thoroughly,  or  with  more  emphatic  chilling  of  the 
blood;  and  the  real  remembrance  of  it  acquired  in  that  minute 
is  so  strengthened  by  the  imaginary  recollection,  that  I  hardly 
think  I  could  forget  it  ’ 


342 


MEMORANDA. 


It  should  be  remembered  that  Memory  is  something 
more  than  a  mental  faculty  of  registration.  The  mind 
is  a  compound  of  eternal  principles,  each  of  which, 
being  from  God  and  of  God,  is  self-intelligent,  from  which 
intelligence  memory  is  inseparable.  The  most  pro¬ 
foundly  spiritual  intellect  is  blest  with  the  most  pro¬ 
found  memories  (intuitions),  and  thus  the  past  is,  in 
certain  moments,  imaged  to  the  consciousness  like  the 

feelings  and  scenes  of  the  present . It 

seems  to  me,  whenever  I  hear  or  read  any  thing  from 
the  pre-existence  philosophers,  that  they  would  obtain 
a  more  rational  explanation  of  their  “  evidences  ”  by 
investigating  the  three  forms  of  mediumsliip,  entitled 
the  “  Clairlative,”  the  “  Symbolic,”  and  the  “Pictorial,” 
bints  of  which  are  given  in  “  Present  Age  and  Inner 
Life,”  pp.  152,  155,  175. 


122. 

A  STELLAR  KEY  TO  THE  SUMMER  LAND. 

Orange,  N.  J.,  February  18,  1868. 

The  Key,  Part  First,  has  been  in  the  world  about 

six  weeks . It  was  written  during  the 

time  that  I  was  engaged  upon  “  Arabula;”  alternately, 
an  hour  at  one  and  an  hour  at  the  other  ;  and  both  were 
composed  while  I,  with  Magic  Staff,  was  slowly  ascend¬ 
ing  the  Sixth  Mountain . Years  have 

elapsed  since  1  began  the  ascent  of  Mount  Harmony,  and 
although  I  have  for  a  brief  period  reached  its  summit, 
I  find  myself,  as  yet,  unable  to  make  it  an  abiding 


A  STELLAR  KEY. 


343 


place . Still,  now  and  then,  I  am  lifted  to 

“  perceptions  and  feelings  far  beyond  the  limits  of 

thought.” . Yet  I  know,  notwithstand- 

ing  these  rare  communions  and  exalted  contemplations, 
that  I  can  not  write  the  Second  Part  of  “  Stellar  Key  ” 
until  I  am  spiritually  able  to  remain  on  the  mountain, 

undisturbed,  for  at  least  four  weeks . Yes, 

there  is  yet  work  to  be  accomplished.  .  .  .  Rise, 
O  my  soul — rise,  to  thy  Labor  1 


INTRODUCTION  TO  HORTENSIA. 


I  AM  impressed  to  introduce  to  the  reader  the  translation  of  Heinrich 
Zschokke’s  remarkable  story  of  Hortensia,  or  the  Transfigurations ,  which 
forms  in  part  the  Appendix  to  this  volume. 

The  writer,  under  the  inspiration  of  truth,  and  with  great  beauty  of 
language,  portrayed  the  exalted  condition  of  a  person  deeply  entranced, 
and  the  strange  contrast  between  that  and  the  ordinary  state.  “  He 
builded  better  than  he  knew  ”  by  showing  that,  by  the  beautiful  balance 
of  human  powers  termed  “  health,”  the  common  state  might  be  lifted 
into  the  superior  condition,  and  the  two  be  permanently  blended. 

The  picture  of  Hortensia’s  gradual  growth,  from  disease  and  discord 
into  sweet  and  noble  womanhood,  clearly  illustrates  the  truth,  too  often 
entirely  overlooked,  that  much,  very  much,  of  the  troublous  “  evil  ”  or 
“  imperfection  ”  in  human  nature  is  traceable,  not  to  “  innate  depravity  ” 
or  external  “demoniac  agencies,”  but  simply  to  a  lack  of  harmonious 
and  perfect  balance  between  the  physical  and  spiritual  parts,  which 
condition  only  is  worthy  of  being  denominated  “  Health  of  Body  and 
Mind.”  The  gradual  cure  for  this  lack,  is  progression.  Hay  this  lesson, 
so  essential  to  universal  charity  and  good  will,  be  deeply  impressed  on 
every  heart. 


APPENDIX 


HORTENSIA; 


OB,  THE 


TRANSFIGURATIONS. 

The  charm,  elegance,  and  retirement  of  the  villa,  the 
hospitality  of  our  rich  host,  Ambrosio  Faustino,  and  the 
grace  of  his  most  lovely  wife,  contributed  not  a  little  to 
the  healing  of  our  wounds,  received  in  the  battle  of 
Molito  (we  were  four  German  officers),  but  still  more 
the  pleasing  discovery,  that  both  the  generous  Faustino 
and  his  beautiful  wife  were  of  German  descent.  He 
was  formerly  called  Faust,  and  was,  by  a  singular  chain 
of  circumstances,  induced  to  settle  in  Italy  and  to 
change  his  name.  The  delight  of  being  able,  far  from 
our  native  land,  to  exchange  German  words,  made  us 
mutually  confidential. 

I  had  the  liberty  of  passing  my  morning  hours  in 
Faustino’s  library.  There  I  found,  in  magnificent  rows, 
the  choicest  works,  and  also  some  volumes  of  Italian 
manuscripts,  written  by  Faustino.  They  were  memoirs 

to* 


340 


APPENDIX. 


of  his  own  life,  mingled  with  observations  on  painting 
and  sculpture.  I  asked  the  favor  of  being  permitted  to 
read  them,  which  Faustino  was  not  only  good  enough 
to  grant,  but  also  drew  out  one  of  the  volumes,  and 
pointed  out  wbat  I  should  read. 

“  Read  it,”  said  he,  “  and  believe  me,  however  in¬ 
credible  it  may  appear,  it  is  true.  Even  to  myself,  it 
seems  at  times  a  deception  of  the  imagination,  though 
I  have  experienced  it  all.” 

He  also  imparted  to  me  many  smaller  circumstances. 
"But  this  is  sufficient  for  an  introduction.  Here  follows 
the  fragment  from  Faustino’s,  or  rather  Faust’s  memoirs. 


ADVENTURES  IN  VENZONI. 

On  the  twelfth  of  September,  1771,  I  crossed  the 
stream  of  Tagliamento,  at  Spilemberg.  I  approached 
with  firm  steps  the  German  confines,  which  I  had  not 
seen  for  many  years.  My  soul  was  full  of  an  indescrib¬ 
able  melancholy,  and  it  seemed  as  if  an  invisible  power 
drew  me  back.  It  constantly  cried  to  me  to  return. 
In  fact,  twice  did  I  stop  on  the  wretched  road,  looked 
toward  Italy,  and  wished  to  return  again  to  Yenice. 
But  then,  when  I  asked  myself,  “What  argues  it?  to 
live!  for  what?”  I  again  proceeded  onward,  toward 
the  dark  mountains,  which  rose  before  me  in  clouds  and 
rain. 

I  had  but  little  money  in  my  pocket,  scarcely  suffi¬ 
cient  to  reach  Yienna,  unless  I  begged  on  the  way,  or 
should  sell  either  my  watch,  linen,  or  better  clothes, 


APPENDIX. 


347 


which  I  carried  in  a  knapsack.  The  finest  years  of  my 
youth  I  had  passed  in  Italy,  in  order  to  improve  myself 
in  painting  and  sculpture.  At  last  I  advanced  suffi¬ 
ciently  in  my  art  to  discover,  in  my  twenty-seventh  year, 
that  I  should  never  accomplish  any  thing  really  great. 
It  is  true,  my  Roman  friends  had  often  had  the  kind¬ 
ness  to  encourage  me.  Many  of  my  pieces  had  occa¬ 
sionally  sold  well.  Nevertheless  this  gave  me  but  little 
comfort.  I  could  not  but  despise  creations  which  gave 
me  no  satisfaction.  I  experienced  the  painful  feeling 
that  I  was  and  should  remain  too  weak  to  call  into 
life,  witli  pencil  or  chisel,  the  living  conceptions  within 
me.  Tins  threw  me  into  despair — I  wished  not  for 
money — I  longed  only  for  the  power  of  art ;  I  cursed 
my  lost  years,  and  returned  to  Germany.  At  that  time 
I  still  had  friends  there :  I  longed  for  a  solitude,  where 
I  could  forget  myself.  I  would  become  a  village  school¬ 
master,  or  engage  in  any  humble  employment,  in  order 
to  punish  my  bold  ambition,  which  had  attempted  to 
rival  Raphael  and  Angelo. 

The  rainy  weather  had  already  continued  several 
days,  and  increased  my  uncomfortable  feelings.  The 
thought  frequently  awoke  in  me,  if  I  could  but  die !  A 
fresh  shower  drew  me  aside  from  the  road,  under  a  tree. 
There  I  long  sat  upon  a  rock,  looking  back  with  deep 
melancholy  upon  the  destroyed  plans  and  hopes  of  my 
life.  I  saw  myself  solitary,  amid  wild  mountains.  The 
cold  rain  fell  in  streams.  Not  far  from  me  a  swollen 
torrent  roared  through  the  rocks.  “  What  will  become 
of  me  ?”  sighed  I.  I  looked  at  the  torrent  to  see 
whether  it  were  deep  enough  to  drown  me  if  I  threw 
myself  in.  I  was  vexed  that  I  had  not  already  made  an 


34S 


APPKNDIX. 


end  of  my  sufferings  at  Tagliamento.  Suddenly  an 
unspeakable  anguish,  and  the  pangs  of  death,  seized 
me.  I  sprang  up  and  ran  on  in  the  rain,  as  if  I  would 
escape  from  myself.  It  was  already  evening,  and  be¬ 
coming  late. 

I  came  to  a  single  large  house  not  far  from  Venzoni. 
The  increasing  darkness,  continued  rain,  and  my  own 
fatigue,  induced  me  to  stop  at  this  building,  which  ex¬ 
hibited  the  friendly  and  inviting  sign  of  accommodation 
for  travelers.  As  I  passed  the  threshold  of  the  door,  a 
violent  shuddering  and  the  same  mortal  agony  seized 
me  that  I  had  experienced  while  sitting  on  the  rock  in 
the  wood.  I  remained  at  the  door  to  take  breath,  but 
quickly  recovered  myself.  I  felt  lighter  than  I  had  for 
some  days,  when  in  the  warm  public  room  I  again  felt 
the  breath  of  man.  Without  doubt  it  had  been  merely 
an  attack  of  bodily  weakness. 

They  welcomed  me,  and  I  cheerfully  threw  my 
knapsack  on  the  table.  I  was  shown  a  small  room 
where  I  could  change  my  wet  clothes.  While  undress¬ 
ing,  I  heard  a  quick  step  on  the  stairs ;  the  room  door 
opened,  and  some  hasty  questions  were  asked  about  me, 
such  as  whether  I  should  remain  over  night — if  I  came 
on  foot  and  carried  a  knapsack — if  I  had  light  hair ; 
and  many  more  of  a  like  nature.  The  interrogators 
went  away — came  again,  and  another  voice  asked  simi¬ 
lar  questions.  I  knew  not  what  it  meant. 

When  I  returned  to  the  public  room  all  eyes  exam¬ 
ined.  me  with  curiosity.  I  seated  myself  as  if  I  remark 
ed  nothing.  Yet  I  was  tormented  to  discover  where¬ 
fore  any  one  had  made  such  particular  inquiries  about 
me.  I  led  the  discourse  to  the  weather-  -from  the 


APPENDIX. 


349 


weather  to  traveling,  and  from  thence  to  the  inquiry, 
if  any  more  strangers  were  in  the  house.  I  was  in¬ 
formed  that  there  was  a  noble  family  from  Germany, 
consisting  of  an  old  gentleman  and  a  very  beautiful  and 
sick  young  lady,  an  elderly  lady,  probably  the  mother 
of  the  young  one,  a  physician,  two  servants,  and  two 
maids.  The  party  arrived  at  mid-day,  and  had  been 
detained,  partly  by  the  badness  of  the  weather,  and 
partly  by  the  weakness  of  the  young  lady.  I  learned, 
besides,  that  both  the  physician  and  the  old  gentleman 
had  come  into  the  public  room,  in  great  haste,  and  had 
inquired  with  some  anxiety  and  astonishment  about  me. 
The  host  was  certain  that  the  party  knew  me  wrell.  He 
urged  me  to  go  up,  as  I  should  certainly  meet  old 
friends  and  acquaintances,  since  they  appeared  to  ex¬ 
pect  me.  I  shook  my  head,  convinced  that  there  was 
some  mistake.  In  the  whole  world  I  had  no  noble 
acquaintances,  and  least  of  all  could  I  claim  any  of  the 
German  nobility.  What  confirmed  me  still  more  in 
this  belief  was,  that  an  old  servant  of  the  count  came  in, 
seated  himself  at  the  table  near  me,  and  in  broken 
Italian  called  for  wine.  When  I  addressed  him  in 
German,  he  was  delighted  to  hear  his  native  tongue. 
He  now  related  to  me  all  that  he  knew  of  his  master. 
The  gentleman  was  a  Count  Hormegg,  who  was  carry¬ 
ing  his  daughter  to  Italy  for  change  of  air. 

The  more  the  old  man  drank,  the  more  talkative  he 
became.  At  first,  he  seated  himself  gloomily  by  me  ; 
at  the  second  flask  he  breathed  more  freely.  As  I  said 
to  him,  that  I  thought  of  going  back  to  Germany,  he 
sighed  deeply,  looked  toward  heaven,  and  his  eyes 
filled  with  tears.  “Could  I  only  go  with  you  !  could  I 


350 


APPENDIX. 


only  go  !  ”  said  he,  sorrowfully  and  softly  to  ine.  £  1 
can  bear  it  no  longer.  I  believe  a  curse  rests  on  this 
family.  Strange  things  occur  among  them.  I  dare 
confide  them  to  no  one,  and  if  I  dare,  sir,  who  would 
believe  me  ?” 


THE  MELANCHOLY  COMPANY  OF  TRAVELERS. 

By  the  third  flask  of  wine,  Sebald,  for  so  he  was 
called,  became  open-hearted.  “  Countryman,”  said  he, 
and  he  looked  timidly  round  the  room ;  but  no  one 
was  present  except  ourselves ;  we  were  sitting  alone  by 
the  dim  burning  candles.  “  Countryman,  they  can  not 
blind  me.  Here  is  a  curse  under  the  veil  and  abun¬ 
dance  of  riches — here  rules  the  bad  spirit  himself ;  God 
be  merciful  unto  us  !  The  count  is  immensely  rich,  but 
he  creeps  about  like  a  poor  sinner ;  he  is  seldom  heard 
to  speak,  and  is  never  gay.  The  old  lady,  companion, 
governor,  or  something  of  that  kind  to  the  Countess 
Hortensia,  appears  to  be  in  constant  fear  from  a  bad 
conscience.  The  countess  herself — truly  a  child  of 
paradise — can  scarcely  be  more  beautiful ;  but  I  believe 
her  father  has  united  her  with  the  devil.  Jesu  Maria  ! 
what  was  that  ?  ” 

The  frightened  Sebald  started  from  his  seat  and 
became  deadly  pale.  It  was  nothing  but  a  window 
shutter  dashed  violently  to  by  the  wind  and  rain.  Aftei 
I  had  tranquilized  my  companion,  he  continued  : — 

“It  is  no  wonder;  one  must  live  in  constant  fear  of 
death.  One  of  us  must  and  will  shortly  die  !  That  l 
have  heard  from  the  young  woman,  Catharine.  God  be 


APPENDIX. 


351 


merciful  to  me !  May  I  not,  in  the  mean  time,  with 
my  comrade,  Thomas,  refresh  myself  with  wine  ?  Sir, 
there  is  no  want  of  what  we  desire,  to  eat  or  drink,  nor 
of  money ;  we  fail  only  in  a  happy  mind.  I  should  long 
since  have  run  off - ” 

Sebald’s  fable  appeared  to  me  to  be  full  of  his  wine. 

“  From  what  do  you  infer  that  one  of  you  must  die?” 

“  There  is  nothing  to  infer,”  replied  Sebald  ;  “  it  is 
only  too  certain.  The  Countess  Hortensia  has  said  it, 
but  no  one  dares  speak  of  it.  Look  you — at  Judenberg, 
fourteen  days  ago,  we  had  the  same  story.  The  young 
countess  announced  the  death  of  one  of  us.  Being  all 
in  good  health,  we  did  not  believe  it.  But  as  we  were 
proceeding  on  the  highway,  Mr.  Muller,  the  secretary  of 
the  count,  a  man  generally  beloved,  suddenly  fell,  to¬ 
gether  with  his  horse  and  baggage,  from  the  height  of 
the  road,  over  the  rocks,  into  the  abyss  beneath,  ten 
times  deeper  than  the  church  steeple.  Jesu  Maria! 
what  a  spectacle !  Hearing  and  sight  left  me.  Man 
and  horse  lay  shattered  to  pieces.  When  you  pass 
through  the  village  where  he  lies  buried,  the  people  will 
relate  it  to  you.  I  dare  not  think  of  it.  The  only 
question  now  is,  which  of  us  is  to  be  the  next  victim  ? 
But  if  it  comes  to  pass,  by  my  poor  soul,  I  will  demand 
my  discharge  from  the  count.  There  is  something 
wrong  here  ;  I  love  my  old  neck,  and  do  not  wish  to 
break  it  in  the  service  of  the  God-forsaken.” 

I  smiled  at  his  superstitious  distress,  but  he  swore 
stoutly,  and  whispered  :  “  The  Countess  Hortensia  is 
possessed  by  a  legion  of  devils.  For  a  year  she  had 
frequently  run  over  the  roof  of  the  castle  Hormeggar,- 
as  we  scarcely  could  do  on  level  ground.  She  prophe- 


352 


APPENDIX. 


sies ;  she  often,  unexpectedly,  falls  into  a  trance,  and 
sees  the  heavens  open  ;  she  looks  into  the  interior  of  the 
human  body.  Dr.  Walter,  who  is  certainly  an  honest 
man,  affirms  that  she  can  not  only  see  through  people, 
as  if  they  were  glass,  but  also  through  doors  and  walls. 
It  is  horrible.  In  her  rational  hours,  she  is  very  sensi¬ 
ble.  But,  O  God  !  it  is  in  her  irrational  hours  that  she 
governs  us,  when  those  evil  spirits  speak  out  of  her. 
Could  we  not  have  remained  upon  the  high  road  ?  But 
no  !  Immediately  upon  leaving  Villach,  we  must  go 
on  sumpter  horses  and  mules  over  the  worst  roads  and 
most  frightful  precipices.  And  wherefore?  Because 
she  so  willed  it.  Had  we  remained  on  the  great  road, 
Mr.  Muller  (God  be  merciful  to  him !)  would  still,  to¬ 
day,  have  drunk  his  glass  of  wine.” 


ATTEMPT  AT  AN  ENGAGEMENT. 

The  return  of  the  people  of  the  house,  with  my  spare 
evening’s  meal,  interrupted  Sebald’s  gossip.  He  prom¬ 
ised  when  we  were  again  alone  to  disclose  many  more 
secrets.  He  left  me.  In  his  place,  a  small,  thin,  gloomy- 
looking  man  seated  himself,  whom  Sebald,  on  going 
away,  called  doctor.  I  knew,  therefore,  that  I  had  be¬ 
fore  me  another  member  of  the  melancholy  travelers. 
The  doctor  looked  at  me,  at  my  supper,  for  awhile 
silently.  He  appeared  to  be  watching  me.  He  tnen 
began  to  ask  me,  in  French,  from  whence  I  came,  and 
where  I  thought  of  going  ?  When  he  heard  1  was  a 
German,  he  became  more  friendly,  and  conversed  with 


APPKNDIX. 


353 


me  in  our  native  tongue.  In  answer  to  my  questions,  1 
learned  that  Count  Hormegg  was  traveling  with  his 
sick  naugliter  to  Venice. 

“  Could  you  not,”  said  the  doctor,  “  give  us  your 
company,  since  you  have  no  particular  object  in  going 
to  Germany  \  You  are  more  familiar  with  the  Italian 
language  than  we  are — know  the  country,  the  manners, 
and  healthy  parts.  You  could  be  of  great  service  to  us. 
The  count  could  take  you  immediately  in  place  of  his 
secretary.  You  will  be  free  of  expense,  have  a  comfort¬ 
able  life,  six  hundred  louis-d’ors  salary,  and  to  that  added 
the  known  liberality  of  the  count.” 

I  shook  my  head,  and  remarked,  that  neither  did  I 
know  the  count,  nor  the  count  me,  sufficiently  to  foresee 
whether  we  should  be  agreeable  to  each  other.  The 
doctor  now  made  the  count’s  eulogium.  I  replied  in 
return,  that  it  would  be  very  difficult  to  say  so  much  to 
my  advantage  to  the  count. 

“  Oh,  if  that  is  all,”  cried  he  hastily,  “  you  are  already 
recommended  ;  you  may,  therefore,  rely  on  it.” 

“  Recommended  !  By  whom  ?” 

The  doctor  appeared  to  be  seeking  for  words,  in  order 
to  rectify  his  hastiness. 

“  Eh,  why  through  necessity — I  can  promise  you,  that 
the  count  will  pay  you  a  hundred  louis-d’ors  down,  if 
you - ” 

“No,”  replied  I,  “I  have  never  in  my  life  labored 
for  superfluities;  only  for  what  is  necessary.  From 
childhood  I  have  been  accustomed  to  an  independent 
life.  I  am  far  from  being  rich,  yet  I  will  never  sell 
my  freedom.” 

The  doctor  appeared  to  be  irritated.  In  truth,  I  was 


354 


A  FPENDIX. 


serious  in  what  I  said.  Add  to  this,  that  I  particularly 
desired  not  to  return  to  Italy,  in  order  that  my  passion 
for  the  arts  should  not  resume  its  power.  I  do  not 
deny,  also,  that  the  sudden  importunity  of  the  doctor, 
and  the  general  behavior  of  these  travelers,  were  dis¬ 
agreeable  to  me,  though  I  certainly  did  not  believe  that 
the  sick  countess  was  possessed  by  a  legion  of  devils.  As 
all  his  persuasions  had  no  other  effect  than  to  make  me 
more  unwilling,  the  doctor  left  me.  I  then  reflected  on 
all  the  different  little  circumstances — weighed  my 
poverty  against  the  comfortable  existence  in  the  train  of 
the  rich  count,  and  played  with  the  little  money  in  my 
pocket,  which  was  all  my  riches.  The  result  of  these 
reflections  were — “Away  from  Italy;  God’s  world 
stands  open  before  you.  Be  firm !  only  peace  in  the 
breast — a  village  school  and  independence?  I  must 
first  endeavor  to  recover  my  individuality.  Yes,  I  have 
lost  all— the  whole  plan  of  my  life — gold  can  not  replace 
it.” 


NEW  OFFERS. 

My  surprise  was  not  a  little  increased,  when,  scarcely 
ten  minutes  after  the  doctor’s  departure,  a  servant  of 
the  count  appeared,  and  begged  me,  in  his  name,  to 
visit  him  in  his  room.  “  What  in  the  world  do  these 
people  want  with  me  ?”  thought  I.  But  I  promised  to 
go.  The  adventure  began,  if  not  to  amuse,  at  least  to 
excite  my  curiosity. 

I  found  the  count  alone  in  his  room  ;  he  was  walking 
with  great  strides  up  and  down — a  tall,  strong,  respect- 


APPENDIX. 


355 


able-looking  man,  with  a  dignified  appearance,  and 
pleasing,  though  melancholy  features.  He  came  imme¬ 
diately  to  meet  me,  and  apologized  for  having  sent  for 
me — led  me  to  a  seat,  mentioned  what  he  had  heard  of 
me  through  the  doctor,  and  repeated  his  offers,  which  I 
as  modestly,  but  firmly,  declined.  He  went  thought¬ 
fully,  with  his  hands  thrown  behind  his  back,  to  the 
window',  returned  hastily,  seated  himself  near  me,  and 
taking  my  hand  in  his,  said  :  “  Friend,  I  appeal  to  your 
heart.  My  eye  must  deceive  me  much,  if  you  are  not 
an  honest  man — consequently  sincere.  Remain  with 
me,  I  entreat  you — remain  only  two  years.  Count  upon 
my  deepest  gratitude.  You  shall  have,  during  that 
time,  whatever  you  need,  and  at  the  expiration  of  it,  I 
will  pay  you  a  thousand  louis-d’ors  ;  you  will  not  repent 
having  lost  a  couple  of  years  in  my  service.”  He  said 
this  so  kindly  and  entreatingly,  that  I  was  much  moved, 
more  so  by  the  tone  and  manner,  than  bv  the  promise 
of  so  large  a  sum,  which  secured  me,  with  my  trifling 
wants,  a  free  and  independent  fortune.  I  would  have 
accepted  the  offer,  had  I  not  been  ashamed  to  show,  that 
at  last  I  had  yielded  to  vile  gold.  On  the  other  side, 
his  brilliant  offers  seemed  to  me  suspicious. 

“  For  such  a  sum,  my  lord,  you  can  command  much 
more  distinguished  talents  than  mine.  YY>u  do  not  know 
me.” 

I  then  spoke  to  him  openly  of  my  past  destiny  and 
occupation,  and  thought  by  that  means,  -without  vexing 
him,  to  put  aside  his  offers,  as  well  as  his  desire  to  have 
me. 

‘‘We  must  not  separate,”  said  he,  as  he  pressed  my 
hand  entreatingly.  “  We  must  not,  since  it  is  you  alone 


356 


APPKNDIX. 


that  I  liave  sought.  It  may  astonish  you  ;  but  on  your 
account  only,  have  I  undertaken  this  journey  with  my 
daughter;  on  your  account  have  I  chosen  the  worst 
road  from  Villacli  here,  that  I  might  not  miss  you  ;  on 
your  account  have  I  stopped  at  this  inn.” 

I  looked  at  the  count  with  astonishment,  and  thought 
he  wished  to  jest  with  me. 

“How  could  you  seek  me,  since  you  knew  me  not? 
since  no  one  knew  the  road  I  wandered  ?  I,  myself, 
three  days  ago,  knew  not  that  I  should  take  this  road  to 
Germany.” 

“  Is  not  this  a  fact  ?”  continued  he.  “  This  afternoon 
you  rested  in  a  wood  ;  you  sat,  full  of  sorrow,  in  a  wil¬ 
derness  ;  you  leaned  on  a  rock,  under  a  large  tree  ;  you 
gazed  at  the  mountain  torrent ;  you  ran  on  impetuously 
in  the  rain.  Is  it  not  so  ?  Confess  candidly — is  it  not 
so  ?” 

At  these  words  my  senses  forsook  me.  He  saw  my 
consternation,  and  said  :  “  Well,  it  is  so  !  you  are,  indeed, 
the  man  I  seek.” 

“  But,”  cried  I,  “  I  do  not  deny  that  some  supersti¬ 
tious  horrors  seized  me,”  and  I  drew  my  hand  out  of 
his.  “  Who  watched  me  ?  Who  told  you  of  it  ?” 

“  My  daughter — my  sick  daughter.  I  can  easily  be¬ 
lieve  that  to  you  it  appears  wonderful.  But  the  unfor¬ 
tunate  one  says  and  sees  many  strange  things  in  her 
sickness. 

“  Four  weeks  since  she  declared  that  only  through 
your  means  could  she  be  restored  to  perfect  health. 
And  as  }rou  now  appear  before  me,  so  did  my  daughter 
describe  you  four  weeks  ago.  Perhaps  about  fourteen 
days  since,  she  declared  that  you  came,  sent  by  God,  to 


APPENDIX. 


357 


meet  us,  and  that  we  must  break  up  and  seek  you. 
We  set  out.  She  directed  the  way  we  should  take — at 
least  the  part  of  the  world  we  should  go  to.  With  the 
compass  in  the  carriage,  and  the  map  in  hand,  w'e 
traveled,  uncertain  where,  like  a  ship  at  sea.  At  Vil- 
lach,  she  pointed  out  the  nearest  way  to  you,  described 
even  the  particulars,  and  that  we  must  leave  the  high 
road.  From  Hortensia’s  mouth,  I  learnt  this  morning 
how  near  you  were,  and  at  the  same  time  the  little  cir¬ 
cumstances  which  I  have  mentioned  to  you.  Immedi¬ 
ately  after  your  arrival,  Dr.  Walter  declared  to  me 
that,  from  the  description  of  the  host,  you  resembled 
exactly  the  person  whom  Hortensia,  four  weeks  ago, 
and  since  that  time  almost  daily,  had  described.  I  am 
now  convinced  of  it,  and  since  so  much  has  already 
been  fulfilled,  I  do  not  for  a  moment  doubt  that  you 
and  no  other  can  save  my  daughter,  and  give  me  back 
my  lost  happiness.” 

He  was  silent,  and  waited  my  answer.  I  sat  long, 
uncertain  and  silent.  I  had  never  in  my  life  met  with 
so  singular  an  adventure. 

“  What  you  tell  me,  my  lord,  is  somewhat  incompre¬ 
hensible,  and  therefore,  with  your  permission,  some¬ 
what  incredible.  I  am,  or  rather  I  was,  nothing  but 
an  artist ;  and  I  know  nothing  of  medicine.” 

“There  is  much  in  life,”  said  he,  “that  is  incompre¬ 
hensible  to  us,  but  all  that  is  incomprehensible,  is  not 
therefore  incredible,  particularly  when  we  can  not  put 
aside  the  reality,  and  the  phenomenon  stands  before  us, 
whose  cause  lies  hidden  before  us.  You  are  no  physi¬ 
cian  ;  that  may  be.  But  the  same  power  which  has 
discovered  to  my  daughter  your  existence  in  the  world 


358 


APPENDIX. 


has,  without  doubt,  destined  you  to  be  her  savior.  In 
my  youth  I  was  a  freethinker,  who  scarcely  believed 
in  God,  and  can  now,  in  my  mature  age,  even  go  as  far 
as  any  old  woman,  and  consider  as  possible  the  exist¬ 
ence  of  devils,  witches,  specters,  and  familiar  spirits. 
Hence  is  explained  both  my  importunity  and  my  offers. 
The  first  is  very  pardonable  in  a  father,  who  lives  in 
constant  anxiety  about  his  only  child  ;  and  my  offers  are 
not  too  great  for  the  saving  of  so  precious  a  life.  I  see 
how  unexpected,  extraordinary,  and  romantic  it  must 
all  appear  to  you ;  but  remain  with  us,  and  you  will  be 
a  witness  to  many  unexpected  things.  Ho  you  wish 
for  an  occupation  exempt  from  the  care  and  trouble  of 
a  journey.  It  depends  upon  yourself  to  choose.  1 
will  impose  no  labor  on  you.  Remain  only  as  my  con¬ 
fidential  companion,  my  comforter.  I  have  before  me 
a  heavy  hour,  perhaps  it  is  very  near :  one  of  our  com¬ 
pany  will  suddenly  and,  it  I  rightly  understand,  in  an 
unusual  manner,  die.  It  may  be  myself.  My  daugh¬ 
ter  has  foretold  it,  aL  I  it  will  happen.  I  tremble  to 
meet  the  fatal  moment,  from  which  my  whole  fortune 
can  not  redeem  me.  I  am  a  very  unhappy  man.” 

Tie  said  still  more,  and  was  even  moved  to  tears.  I 
found  myself  in  a  singular  dilemma.  All  that  I  heard 
excited  sometimes  my  astonishment,  sometimes  my 
just  doubts.  Sometimes  I  had  a  suspicion  of  the  right 
understanding  of  the  count,  and  sometimes  supposed 
the  error  was  my  own.  At  last,  I  made  the  courageous 
resolution  to  attempt  the  adventure,  come  what  would 
of  it.  It  appeared  to  me  unjust  to  consider  the  count 
an  impostor ;  and  in  God’s  wide  world  I  had  no  em¬ 
ployment  or  living. 


APPENDIX. 


359 


“  I  renounce  all  your  generous  offers,  my  lord,”  said 
I :  “  give  me  onlv  as  mucli  as  I  have  need  of.  I  will 
accompany  you.  It  is  sufficient  for  me  if  I  may  hope 
to  contribute  to  your  happiness  and  your  daughter’s 
recovery,  though,  as  yet,  I  in  no  way  comprehend  the 
how.  A  human  life  is  of  much  value  ;  I  shall  be  proud 
if  I  have  it  in  my  power,  one  day,  to  believe  that  I 
have  saved  the  life  of  a  human  being.  But  I  release 
you  from  all  that  you  promised  me ;  I  do  nothing  for 
money.  On  the  contrary,  I  will,  moreover,  maintain 
my  independence.  I  will  remain  in  your  retinue  as 
long  as  I  can  be  of  service  to  you,  or  can  find  my  life 
comfortable  in  it.  If  you  agree  to  those  terms,  then  I 
am  at  your  service.  You  can  introduce  me  to  your 
invalid.” 

The  count’s  eyes  shone  with  joy.  He  inclosed  me 
silently  in  his  arms,  and  pressed  me  to  his  heart,  while 
he  merely  sighed,  “  Thank  God  !”  After  a  time  he 
said,  “  To-morrow  you  shall  see  my  daughter.  She  has 
already  gone  to  rest.  I  must  prepare  her  for  your 
presence.” 

“Prepare  her  for  my  presence?”  exclaimed  I,  sur¬ 
prised.  “Did  you  not  tell  me,  a  few  minutes  since, 
that  she  had  announced  my  arrival,  and  described  my 
person  ?” 

“  Your  pardon,  dear  Faust;  I  forgot  to  inform  you 
of  one  circumstance.  My  daughter  is  like  a  double 
person.  When  she  is  in  her  natural  state,  she  is  in  no 
way  conscious  of  what  she  hears,  sees,  knows,  and  says 
in  her  state  of  trance,  if  I  may  so  call  it.  She  does 
not  recollect  the  smallest  trifle  that  occurred  during 
that  period,  and  would  herself  doubt  that  she  had 


i$60 


APPENDIX. 


spoken  and  acted  as  we  have  related  to  her,  if  she  had 
not  every  reason  to  place  confidence  in  my  words. 
But  in  her  trance,  slie  remembers  all  that  has  passed 
in  a  similar  state,  as  well  as  what  she  has  experienced 
in  her  usual  and  natural  life.  It  is  only  during  her 
trance  that  she  has  seen  and  described  you,  but  out  of 
that  she  knows  nothing  of  you,  except  that  we,  by  re¬ 
peating  her  own  expressions,  have  been  able  to  inform 
her.  Let  us  only  wait  for  one  of  her  extraordinary 
moments,  and  I  have  no  doubt  she  will  immediately 
recollect  you.” 

In  a  conversation  of  some  hours,  I  learnt  from  the 
count  that  his  daughter  had  for  years,  even  from  a 
child,  an  inclination  to  sleep-walking.  In  a  state  of 
somnambulism,  she  had,  without  being  able  to  recollect 
it  afterward,  with  closed  eyes,  left  her  bed,  dressed  her¬ 
self,  written  letters  to  those  present,  or  played  the  most 
difficult  pieces  on  the  piano,  and  executed  a  hundred 
other  trifles  with  a  skill,  which  she  not  only  did  not 
possess  when  awake,  but  which  she  could  not  afterward 
acquire.  The  count  believed  that  that  which  he  now 
sometimes  called  a  trance  and  sometimes  a  transfigura¬ 
tion,  was  nothing  more  than  a  higher  state  of  somnam¬ 
bulism,  but  which  enfeebled  his  daughter  almost  to 
death. 


A  FRIGHTFUL  EVENT. 

It  was  late  when  I  left  the  count’s  apartment.  There 
was  no  one  but  old  Sebald  in  the  public  room,  who  was 
still  enjoying  his  wine. 


APPKNDIX. 


301 


“  Sir,”  said  lie,  “  speak  a  little  German  with  me, 
that  I  may  not  entirely  forget  my  noble  language, 
which  would  in  truth  be  a  shame.  You  have  spoken 
with  the  count  ?” 

“  I  have  spoken  with  him.  I  shall  now  travel  with 
him  to  Italy,  and  remain  in  your  company.” 

“  Excellent !  It  does  me  good  to  have  one  more 
German  face  near  me.  The  Italians,  as  I  have  heard, 
are  bad  birds.  Now,  with  the  exception  of  our  possess¬ 
ed  countess,  you  will  be  pleased  with  all  our  company. 
As  you  now  belong  to  us,  I  can  now  speak  more  openly 
of  our  affairs.  The  count  would  be  a  good  man  if  he 
could  only  smile.  I  believe  he  is  not  pleased  when  one 
laughs.  All  that  surrounds  him  has  the  aspect  of  the 
last  day.  The  old  lady  is  also  right  good,  but  is  easily 
vexed,  if  one  does  not  immediately  fly  here  and  there 
according  to  her  motions.  I  believe  she  goes  to  Italy 
merely  on  account  of  the  pure  burnt  water,  as  she 
loves  a  glass  of  liquor.  The  sick  countess  also  would 
not  be  bad,  if  she  had  not,  beside  her  pride,  an  army 
of  devils  in  her  body.  Whoever  wishes  to  be  in  her 
good  graces  must  creep  on  all-fours.  Bow  yourself 
diligently  before  her.  Dr.  Walter  would  be  the  best 
of  us  all,  if  he  only  knew  how  to  exorcise  the  devils. 
My  comrade,  Thomas,  is  therefore - ”  At  this  mo¬ 

ment  the  host,  full  of  horror,  rushed  into  the  room,  and 
cried  to  his  people,  “  Help  !  help  !  there  is  lire.” 

“Where  is  the  fire?”  asked  I,  alarmed. 

“  Up-stairs,  in  a  chamber ;  I  saw’  the  bright  flames 
outside  the  window.” 

He  ran  out ;  the  house  was  filled  with  cries  and  con¬ 
fusion.  I  was  following,  when  Sebald,  white  as  a 
16 


362 


APPENDIX. 


corpse,  held  me  by  both  arms  :  “  Jesu  Maria  !  what  lias 
happened?”  I  told  him  in  German  to  get  water,  as  the 
house  was  on  fire. 

“  Another  piece  of  deviltry  !”  sighed  he,  and  hurried 
into  the  kitchen. 

The  people  ran  up  and  down  stairs.  It  was  said  the 
room  was  fastened,  and  they  sought  instruments  to 
break  open  the  door.  Sebald  was  up-stairs  even  as  soon 
as  myself,  with  a  bucket  of  water.  As  he  perceived 
the  door,  toward  which  all  pressed,  he  cried,  “  Jesu 
Maria  !  that  is  the  chamber  of  the  old  lady.” 

“  Burst  it  open,”  cried  the  Count  Hormegg,  in  ex¬ 
treme  agony.  “  Burst  it  open :  Mrs.  Montlue  sleeps 
there,  and  she  will  be  suffocated. ” 

A  man  soon  came  with  an  ax,  but  it  was  not  with¬ 
out  difficulty  that  he  could  break  the  strong,  well-mor¬ 
tised  oaken  door.  All  pressed  in,  but,  shuddering, 
bounded  back. 

The  room  was  dark.  Only  in  the  background,  near 
the  window,  a  yellow  flame  played  on  the  floor,  which 
soon  went  out.  An  indescribably  sharp  stench  blew 
toward  us  as  we  opened  the  door.  Sebald  made  the 
sign  of  the  cross,  and  sprang  headlong  down  stairs  ; 
some  of  the  maids  followed  his  example.  The  count 
called  for  a  light.  It  was  brought.  I  went  through 
the  room  in  order  to  open  the  window.  The  count 
directed  us  to  the  bed.  It  was  empty  and  undisturbed, 
and  nowhere  any  smoke.  Hear  the  window  the  stench 
was  so  great  it  made  me  sick. 

The  count  called  the  name  of  Mrs.  Montlue.  As  he 
came  nearer  with  the  burning  candle,  I  saw  at  my  feet 
—  imagine  my  horror ! — a  large  black  spot  of  ashes,  and 


APPENDIX. 


3tJ3 

near  by  a  burnt  bead  we  could  not  recognize ;  one  arm 
with  the  hand  ;  in  another  place  three  fingers,  and 
the  foot  of  a  lady,  partly  charred. 

“  Great  God  !”  cried  the  count,  turning  pale,  “  what 
is  that  ?”  He  observed,  shuddering,  the  remains  of  a 
human  figure.  He  saw  the  fingers  with  the  rings,  and 
sprang,  with  a  loud  shriek,  to  meet  the  doctor,  who 
was  entering.  “  Mrs.  Montlue  is  burnt,  yet  no  fire,  no 
smoke!  Incomprehensible!” 

He  tottered  back,  in  order  once  more  to  convince 
himself  of  the  reality  of  his  discovery.  He  then  gave  up 
the  candle,  folded  his  hands,  looked  fixedly  before  him, 
and  turning  deadly  pale,  left  the  room. 

I  stood  petrified,  by  a  so  horrible  and  unheard-of 
spectacle.  All  that  had  happened  during  this  day,  the 
wonders  that  had  been  told,  had  so  stupefied  me,  that  I 
stood,  without  feeling,  gazing  at  the  black  dust,  the 
coals,  and  the  disgusting  remains  of  a  human  form  at 
my  feet.  The  room  was  soon  filled  with  the  men  and 
women  belonging  to  the  inn.  I  heard  their  whispers 
and  their  stealthy  steps.  It  seemed  to  me  that  I  was 
in  the  midst  of  specters.  The  nursery  tales  of  my 
childhood  were  ripened  to  reality. 

When  I  came  to  myself,  I  withdrew  from  the  cnam- 
ber,  intending  to  go  down  into  the  public  room.  At 
that  moment,  a  door  at  the  side  opened  ;  a  young  lady, 
dressed  in  a  light  night  dress,  came  out,  supported  by 
two  maids,  each  of  whom  carried  a  lighted  candle.  I 
remained  standing,  as  if  blinded  by  this  new  appari¬ 
tion.  So  much  nobleness  in  figure,  movement,  and 
features,  I  had  never  seen  in  reality ;  nor  ever  found  in 
the  creations  of  the  painter  or  statuary.  The  horrors 


APPKNDIX. 


3G4: 

of  the  preceding  moments  were  almost  foi gotten.  I 
was  only  eyes  and  admiration.  The  young  beauty 
tottered  toward  the  chamber,  where  the  frightful  event 
had  occurred.  When  she  observed  the  men  and  wo¬ 
men,  she  stood  still,  and  cried  out  in  the  German  lan¬ 
guage,  and  with  a  commanding  voice,  “  Drive  away 
this  crowd  from  me.”  Immediately  one  of  the  count’s 
servants  executed  her  commands.  He  did  it  with  such 
uncourtly  violence,  that  he  forced  them  all,  and  me 
with  them,  from  the  gallery  to  the  stairs. 

“  If  there  ever  has  been  a  fairy,  this  is  one,”  thought 
I.  Sebald  was  sitting,  quite  pale,  in  the  public  room, 
near  the  wine.  “  Did  not  I  say  so  ?”  cried  he.  “  One 
of  us  must  go.  The  possessed,  or  rather  that  malicious 
Satan,  so  willed  it.  The  one  must  break  his  bones  and 
neck — the  other,  a  living  body,  be  burnt.  Your  obe¬ 
dient  servant,  I  take  my  leave  to-morrow,  lest  the  next 
turn  comes  to  my  insignificant  self.  Whoever  is  as 
prudent  as  I  am  will  not  travel  with  them  to  hell.  In 
Italy,  even  the  mountains  spit  fire.  God  keep  me  from 
going  too  near.  I  should  certainly  be  the  first  roast  of 
Moloch,  since  I  am  much  too  pious,  and,  nevertheless, 
at  all  hours  not  a  saint.” 

I  told  him  of  the  young  lady. 

“  That  was  she,”  said  he ;  “  that  was  the  countess. 
God  be  near  unto  us.  She  has,  probably,  desired  to 
snuff  up  the  burnt  mess.  Go  with  me  to-morrow ;  let 
us  make  our  escape.  Your  bright  young  life  raises  my 
sincere  compassion.” 

“Even  the  Countess  Hortensia?” 

“  Who  else  ?  She  is  handsome,  therefore  the  chief 
of  the  deiils  has  himself  bewitched  her  ;  but - ” 


APPENDIX. 


365 


At  this  time,  Sebald  was  called  by  the  count ;  he 
went,  or  rather  staggered,  sighing  deeply.  The  acci¬ 
dent  had  filled  the  whole  house  with  noise.  I  sat  ou 
my  chair,  amid  all  these  wonders,  estranged  from  my¬ 
self.  Long  after  midnight,  the  host  showed  me  a  smal 
room,  where  there  was  a  bed. 


ANTIPATHY. 

After  the  fatigues  of  the  past  day,  I  slept  soundly 
until  nearly  mid-day.  As  I  awoke,  the  events  of  yes¬ 
terday  appeared  like  a  feverish  phantom,  or  the  illu¬ 
sions  of  intoxication.  I  could  neither  convince  myself 
of  their  truth,  nor  yet  doubt  tliem.  I  considered  every 
thing  now  with  greater  composure  of  mind.  I  no 
longer  hesitated  to  remain  with  the  count.  I  rather 
followed  him  with  pleasure  and  curiosity,  so  entirely 
new  and  wonderful  did  my  destiny  appear.  Then  also 
what  bad  I  to  lose  in  Germany  ?  What  even  in  life  ? 
What  could  I  risk  in  following  the  count  ?  At  last,  it 
only  depended  upon  myself  to  break  the  thread  of  the 
romance  as  soon  as  its  length  became  disagreeable  to 
me.  When  I  entered  the  public  room,  I  found  it  filled 
with  the  overseers  of  the  place,  police  officers,  capu¬ 
chins,  and  peasants  of  the  neighboring  country,  who 
had  been  drawn  thither  either  from  motives  of  curiosity 
or  by  their  official  duties.  Not  one  of  them  doubted 
but  that  the  burning  of  the  lady  was  the  work  of  the 
devil.  The  count,  indeed,  had  the  remains  of  the  un¬ 
fortunate  woman  buried  by  his  own  people.  But  it  was 


APPENDIX. 


3G6 

thought  proper  that  the  whole  house  should  be  conse¬ 
crated  and  blessed  by  the  reverend  Capuchin  fathers, 
in  order  that  it  might  be  purified  from  the  evil  spirit. 
This  was  a  considerable  expense.  There  was  a  ques¬ 
tion,  whether  we  should  be  arrested  and  given  up  to 
justice;  but  it  was  disputed  whether  we  should  be 
delivered  to  the  civil  or  ecclesiastical  authority.  The 
majority  were  in  favor  of  our  being  taken  to  Undine, 
and  brought  before  the  archbishops. 

The  count,  not  being  master  of  the  Italian  language, 
w:is  glad  when  he  saw  me.  He  had  in  vain  offered 
a  large  sum  of  money  to  defray  the  expenses  occasioned 
by  the  extraordinary  circumstances.  He  entreated  me 
to  finish  the  business  with  the  people  in  his  name. 

I  immediately  drew  near  the  priests  and  police- 
officers,  and  declared  to  them  that,  until  now,  I  had  as 
little  connection  with  the  count  as  themselves,  and 
offered  two  things  for  their  consideration  ;  either  the 
misfortune  of  burning  had  happened  naturally,  or  at 
least  without  the  participation  of  the  count,  in  which 
case  they  would  bring  much  trouble  on  themselves,  by 
the  arrest  of  so  high  a  nobleman ;  or  he  was  truly  in 
league  with  bad  spirits,  in  which  case,  he  could  out  of 
revenge,  play  some  bad  tricks  on  them,  their  cloister, 
and  their  village.  Their  wisest  course  was,  to  take  the 
count’s  money  and  let  him  go  ;  they  would  then  have 
no  responsibility  or  resentment  to  fear,  and  in  any  case 
would  be  the  gainers.  My  reasons  were  obvious.  The 
money  was  paid.  Our  horses  were  given  us — we 
mounted,  and  rode  on.  The  prospect  cleared  up. 

The  countess,  with  the  women  and  other  servants,  had 
gone  some  hours  before;  the  count,  with  only  one  serv- 


APPENDIX. 


367 


ant,  having  remained  behind.  On  the  way,  he  began 
to  speak  of  the  frightful  event  of  the  past  evening.  He 
said  his  daughter  had  been  very  much  overcome  by  it. 
She  had  suffered  for  some  hours  with  cramps  and 
convulsions,  after  which  she  had  a  quiet  sleep.  She 
appeared  tranquil  on  awakening  ;  but  desired  to  leave 
the  unfortunate  house  immediately. 

Probably  in  order  to  prepare  me  for  my  future  situa¬ 
tion,  he  added :  “  I  am  obliged  to  pardon  and  yield 
much  to  my  sick  child.  She  is  of  unconquerable  obsti¬ 
nacy.  From  her  extraordinary  irritability,  the  least 
contradiction  moves  her  to  anger,  and  a  slight  vexation 
is  sufficient  to  cause  many  days  of  suffering.  I  have 
announced  your  arrival  to  her.  She  heard  it  with  in¬ 
difference.  I  asked  if  I  might  introduce  you  to  her. 
Her  answer  was,  ‘  Do  you  think  I  have  so  much  curi¬ 
osity?  Tt  will  be  time  enough  when  we  are  in  Venice.’ 
I  think,  however,  we  shall  have  sufficient  opportunities 
on  the  way.  Do  not  allow  the  humors  of  my  daughter 
to  vex  you,  my  dear  Faust.  She  is  a  sick,  unfortunate 
creature,  whom  we  must  treat  with  tenderness,  lest  we 
destroy  her.  She  is  my  only  treasure,  my  last  joy  on 
earth.  The  loss  of  Mrs.  Montlue  does  not  appear  to  be 
painful  to  her,  as  she  had  lately,  I  know  not  from  what 
cause,  taken  an  aversion  to  her.  Perhaps  the  slight, 
certainly  not  violent  inclination  of  that  person  to  strong 
drink,  was  disgusting  to  her.  Dr.  Walter  affirms,  also, 
that  this  habit  was  the  cause  of  her  spontaneous  com¬ 
bustion.  Formerly,  she  was  a  very  good  woman,  and 
much  attached  to  my  daughter  and  myself.  I  lament 
her  loss  very  deeply.  Dr.  Walter  related  to  me  other 
instances  which  must  be  extremely  rare,  of  the  sponta- 


36S 


APPENDIX. 


neons  combustion  of  the  human  body,  by  which  it 
a  few  moments  reduced  to  ashes.  He  endeavore  -to 
account  for  the  phenomenon  on  very  natural  grounds, 
but  I  can  not  comprehend  it.  Only  this  much  I  know, 
this  burning  door  of  death  is  one  of  the  most  frightful.” 

Thus  spoke  the  count,  and  this  formed  the  subject  of 
our  conversation  to  Venice.  For  the  young  countess 
had  now  the  humor,  notwithstanding  her  bodily  weak¬ 
ness,  and  the  objections  of  her  father  and  the  physician, 
to  make  the  journey  by  long  days’  rides,  and  with  no 
other  delay  than  the  nightly  rest  demanded.  I  had  not, 
therefore,  the  honor  of  an  introduction.  Nay,  I  must 
even  keep  at  a  distance,  since,  alas  !  I  had  not  the  good 
fortune  to  please  her. 

She  was  carried  in  a  sedan  chair — servants  ran  near 
her  on  foot.  The  women  rode,  and  the  count,  likewise, 
in  his  own  carriage.  The  doctor  and  myself  rode  on 
horseback. 

As  the  countess  one  morning  came  out  of  the  inn  to 
mount  her  sedan,  she  perceived  me,  and  said  to  Dr. 
Walter,  “  Who  is  that  man,  that  forever  and  eternally 
follows  us?” 

“  Mr.  Faust,  my  good  lady.” 

“  A  disagreeable  fellow — send  him  back.” 

“  You,  yourself,  have  wished  for  him;  it  was  on  his 
account  that  the  journey  was  undertaken.  Consider 
him  as  a  medicine  which  you  have  ordered  for  your¬ 
self.” 

“  He  has  the  disgusting  qualities  common  to  all 
drugs.” 

I  was  near  enough  to  hear  this  not  very  flattering 
speech,  and  knew  not  what  countenance  I  put  on,  though 


APPENDIX. 


369 


I  well  recollect  that  I  was  almost  vexed,  and  should 
immediately  have  left  the  whimsical  Venus,  had  not 
the  count  been  so  kind.  I  could  not  affirm  that  I  was 
a  handsome  man,  but  I  know  that  generally  I  did  not 
displease  the  women.  But  now,  only  to  be  endured  as 
a  disgusting  medicine,  was  too  severe  on  the  vanity  of  a 
young  man,  especially  for  one  who,  had  he  been  a  prince 
or  count,  would  not  have  hesitated  to  have  joined  him¬ 
self  to  the  adorers  of  the  charming  Hortensia. 

In  the  mean  while  I  continued  with  them.  The 
countess  reached  Venice  without  any  particular  acci¬ 
dent,  and  her  medicine  followed  obediently  after.  A 
magnificent  palace  was  hired,  in  which  I  had  an  apart¬ 
ment,  and  also  servants,  particularly  appropriated  to  my 
service.  The  count  lived  in  great  style,  as  it  is  called. 
He  had  many  friends  among  the  Venetian  nobility. 


THE  TRANCE. 

We  had  been  about  four  days  in  Venice,  when  one 
afternoon  I  was  hastily  sent  for  by  the  count.  He 
received  me  with  an  unusually  cheerful  countenance. 

“My  daughter,”  said  he,  “has  inquired  for  you. 
Indeed,  no  day  has  passed  without  her  speaking  of  you: 
she  has  done  so  already  to-day;  but  now  is  the  first 
time  that  she  has  desired  your  presence.  Enter  her 
room  with  me,  but  very  gently  ;  the  least  noise  thrc  ws 
her  into  dangerous  cramps.” 

“  But,”  asked  I,  with  secret  horror,  “  what  does  she 
wish  me  to  do  ?” 

lfi* 


370 


APPENDIX. 


“Who  can  answer ?”  replied  the  count.  “Wait  for 
the  future.  May  God  direct  all.” 

We  entered  a  large  state  chamber,  hung  round  with 
green  silk  hangings.  Two  female  servants  were  leaning, 
silent  and  anxious,  near  the  window — the  doctor  sat  on 
a  sofa,  watching  the  invalid.  She  stood  upright,  with 
closed  eyes,  in  the  middle  of  the  room — one  of  her 
beautiful  arms  was  hanging  down,  the  other,  half  raised, 
stiff  and  immovable  as  a  statue.  Only  the  movement 
of  her  bosom  betrayed  breath.  The  solemn  silence 
which  reigned,  the  goddess-like  figure  of  Hortensia, 
upon  whom  all  eyes  were  fixed,  filled  me  with  involun¬ 
tary  yet  pleasing  horror. 

As  soon  as  I  entered  this  silent  sanctuary,  the  count¬ 
ess,  without  opening  her  eyes  or  changing  her  posi¬ 
tion,  said,  with  an  indescribably  sweet  voice,  “  At  last, 
Emanuel!  why  dost  thou  keep  so  far  off?  Oh,  come 
hither,  and  bless  her,  that  she  may  be  cured  of  her  suf¬ 
ferings.” 

I  probably  looked  rather  foolish  at  this  speech,  being 
uncertain  whether  or  not  it  regarded  me.  The  count 
and  the  doctor  motioned  me  to  draw  nearer,  and  gave 
me  a  sign  that  I  should,  like  a  priest,  make  the  sign  of 
the  cross  toward,  or  else,  as  blessing  her,  lay  my  hands 
on  her. 

I  approached,  and  raised  my  hands  over  her  wonder¬ 
fully  beautiful  head.  But  from  extreme  respect,  had 
not  courage  to  touch  her.  I  let  my  hands  sink  slowly 
down  again.  Hortensia’s  countenance  seemed  to  betray 
discontent.  I  again  raised  my  hands,  and  held  them 
stretched  out  toward  her,  uncertain  what  I  was  to  do. 
Her  countenance  cleared,  which  induced  me  to  remain 


APPENDIX. 


371 


in  that  position.  My  embarrassment,  however,  increased 
as  the  countess  said,  “Emanuel,  thou  hast  not  yet  the 
will  to  relieve  her.  Oh,  only  give  thy  will — thy  will. 
Thou  art  all  powerful.  Thy  will  can  do  all.” 

“  Gracious  countess,”  said  I,  “  doubt  all,  but  not  my 
will  to  assist  you.”  I  said  this  truly,  with  great  earnest¬ 
ness.  For  had  she  commanded  me  to  throw  myself  into 
the  sea  for  her,  I  should  with  joy  have  done  so.  To  me, 
it  was  as  if  I  stood  before  a  divinity.  The  soft  sym¬ 
metry  of  her  form,  and  her  countenance,  which  seemed 
to  belong  to  the  unearthly,  had  likewise  disembodied 
my  soul.  Never  had  I  seen  grace  and  sublimity  so 
united.  Hortensia’s  face  was,  as  I  had  before  seen  it,  it 
is  true,  only  transiently  or  from  a  distance,  pale,  suffer¬ 
ing,  and  gloomy ;  now  it  was  quite  different.  An  uncom¬ 
mon  delicate  color  was  spread  over  it,  like  the  reflection 
from  the  rose.  In  all  her  features  swam  a  light,  such 
as  a  human  countenance,  under  ordinary  circumstances, 
could  never  obtain,  either  by  nature  or  art.  The  expres¬ 
sion  of  the  whole  was  a  solemn  smile,  and  yet  no  smile, 
but  rather  an  inward  delight.  This  extraordinary  state 
was  justly  called  transfiguration  by  her  companions ; 
but  such  a  transfiguration,  no  painter  in  his  moments 
of  inspiration,  ever  saw  or  imagined.  Let  one,  there¬ 
fore,  figure  to  himself  the  statue-like  position,  the  marble 
stillness  of  the  features,  with  the  eyes  closed  as  in  sleep. 
Never  before  had  I  felt  such  fearful  delight. 

“  Oh  !  Emanuel !”  said  she,  after  a  time,  “  now  is  thy 
will  sincere.  Now  knows  she,  that  through  thee  she 
will  be  cured.  Thy  hair  flows  in  golden  flames ;  from 
thy  fingers  flow  silver  rays  of  light ;  thou  floatest  in 
heaven’s  clear  azure.  How  eager! v  her  whole  being; 


372 


APPENDIX. 


imbibes  this  brilliancy — this  health-bringing  flood  of 
light.” 

At  this  somewhat  poetical  form  of  speech,  the  drugs, 
with  which  I  had  the  melancholy  honor  of  being  com¬ 
pared  to  a  few  days  before,  involuntarily  recurred  tome, 
and  I  continued  silent,  taking  no  notice  of  the  gold  and 
silver  rays. 

“Be  not  angry  with  her  in  thy  thoughts,  Emanuel,” 
said  Hortensia.  “Be  not  angry  that  her  weakness  and 
distempered  wit  compared  thee  with  bitter  remedies. 
Be  more  generous  than  the  thoughtless  one,  by  suffer¬ 
ing  misled,  and  often  by  earthly  weaknesses  given  up  to 
frenzy.” 

At  these  words  the  doctor  threw  a  smiling  look  on  me 
— I  also  toward  the  doctor,  but  with  a  gesture  of  aston¬ 
ishment,  not  because  the  proud  beauty  humbled  herself 
to  an  apology,  but  that  she  appeared  to  have  guessed  my 
thoughts. 

“  Oh  !  distract  not  thy  attention,  Emanuel !”  said  the 
transfigured,  quickly.  “  Thou  speakest  with  the  doctor. 
On  her  alone  turn  thy  thoughts,  and  on  her  safety.  It 
distresses  her  when  thy  thoughts  for  one  moment  leave 
her.  Continue  in  the  firm  desire  to  penetrate  her  half- 
dissolved  being  with  the  beneficial  power  of  thy  light. 
Seest  thou  how  powerful  thy  will  is  ?  The  stiffened 
fibers  relax  and  melt,  like  the  winter’s  frost  in  the  sun’s 
rays.” 

While  she  spoke,  her  raised  arm  sank.  Motion  and 
life  animated  her  figure.  She  asked  for  a  seat.  The 
doctor  brought  her  one  which  stood  in  the  chamber, 
with  richly  embroidered  green  silk  cushions. 

“  Not  that  kind,”  said  she.  After  a  while  she  con 


APPENDIX. 


373 


tinued:  “The  arm-chair,  with  a  striped  linen  cover, 
which  stands  in  Emanuel’s  chamber,  before  his  writing- 
table.  Bring  it  here,  and  leave  it  forever !” 

I  had,  truly,  but  the  moment  before  left  the  arm-chair 
standing  before  the  table.  But  the  countess  had  never 
seen  my  room.  As  I  reached  the  key  of  the  room  to 
one  of  the  women,  Hortensia  said,  “  Is  that  the  key  ?  I 
did  not  understand  those  dark  spots.  Thou  hast  in  the 
left  pocket  of  thy  vest,  yet  another  key — put  it  away 
from  thee.”  I  did  so.  It  was  the  key  of  my  press. 

So  soon  as  the  chair  was  brought,  she  seated  herself 
in  it,  apparently  with  great  comfort.  She  commanded 
me  to  stand  near  before  her,  with  the  ends  of  my  fingers 
toward  the  pit  of  her  heart. 

“  God !  of  what  delight  is  the  man  capable  !”  said  she. 
“Emanuel,  give  her  thy  word,  she  entreats  thee,  not  to 
forsake  her  till  the  ruins  of  her  mind  have  been  re¬ 
established — till  her  recovery  is  perfect.  Shouldst  thou 
forsake  her,  she  must  die  wretchedly.  On  thee  haims 
her  life.” 

I  promised  with  delight  and  pride  to  be  the  protector 
and  guardian  angel  of  so  precious  a  life. 

“  Also,  regard  it  not,”  continued  she,  “  if  she,  in  the 
state  of  earthly  waking,  mistakes  thee.  Pardon  her — 
she  is  an  unfortunate,  that  knows  not  what  she  does. 
All  faults  are  the  sicknesses  of  the  mortal  part,  which 
cripple  the  power  of  the  spirit.” 

She  was  talkative,  and  so  far  from  being  vexed  by  my 
questions,  she  appeared  to  hear  them  with  pleasure.  I 
expressed  my  astonishment  at  her  extraordinary  situa¬ 
tion.  Never  had  I  heard  that  sickness  made  a  person, 
as  it  were,  godlike ;  that  she  should,  with  closed  eyes, 


APPENDIX. 


374 

perceive  what  she  had  never  seen  before,  and  what  was 
far  distant  from  her,  and  even  know  the  thoughts  of 
another!  I  must  believe  that  her  state,  which,  with 
justice,  might  be  compared  to  a  transfiguration,  was 
the  perfection  of  health. 

After  a  minute’s  silence,  which  was  always  the  case 
before  she  answered,  she  said,  “  She  is  healthy  like  a 
dying  person,  whose  material  is  breaking  asunder.  She 
is  as  healthy  as  she  will  be,  when  her  humanity  ceases, 
and  the  earthly  body  of  this  lamp  of  eternal  light  falls 
to  pieces.” 

“  The  transfiguration,”  said  I,  “  makes  all  dark  to 
me !” 

“  Dark,  Emanuel  ?  But  thou  wilt  experience  it.  She 
knows  much,  and  yet  can  not  express  it ;  she  sees  much 
clearly,  much  dimly,  and  yet  can  not  name  it.  See- 
man  is  combined  from  a  variety  of  beings,  which  bind 
and  arrange  themselves  together,  as  round  a  single 
point,  and  thereby  he  becomes  man.  So  are  all  the 
little  parts  of  a  flower  held  together,  whereby  it  becomes 
a  flower.  And  as  one  part  holds  and  binds  the  other, 
so  the  other  restrains  it  in  turn  ;  no  one  is  what  it  would 
be  by  itself,  since,  only  all  can  form  man,  and  be  other¬ 
wise  nothing.  Nature  is  like  an  endless  ocean  of  bright¬ 
ness,  in  which  single  solid  points  are  drawn  together. 
These  are  creatures.  Or  like  an  extensive  shining 
heaven,  in  which  drops  of  light  run  together  and  form 
stars.  All  that  is  in  the  world,  has  run  together  from 
the  dissolved  chaos,  which  is  everywhere  and  always 
imbibing  and  then  dissolving  itself  again  in  all,  since 
nothing  can  remain  stati  inary.  So  is  man,  out  of  the 
manifold  substances  of  the  universe,  grown  around 


APPENDIX. 


with  floating  flowers.  But  in  order  that  man  may  be, 
more  insignificant  beings  must  place  themselves  around 
him,  which  shall  support  his  divine  part. 

“  The  strange  things  or  beings  which  are  placed 
around  us,  form  the  body.  The  body  is  only  the  shell 
of  the  heavenly  body.  The  heavenly  body  is  called  the 
soul.  The  soul  is  but  the  veil  of  the  Eternal.  Now  is 
the  earthly  shell  of  the  sick  broken,  therefore  her  light 
flows  out,  her  soul  meets  in  union  with  all,  from  which 
it  was  formerly  separated  by  a  healthy  shell,  and  sees, 
hears,  and  feels  without  it  and  within  it.  Then  it  is 
not  the  body  that  feels  ;  the  body  is  only  the  inanimate 
casement  of  the  soul.  Without  it,  eyes,  ears,  and 
tongue  are  like  stones.  Now,  if  the  earthly  shell  of  the 
sick  can  not  become  healthy  by  thy  aid,  she  will  be 
entirely  broken  and  fall  to  pieces.  She  will  no  longer 
belong  to  mankind,  since  she  possesses  nothing  by 
which  she  can  communicate  with  them.” 

She  stopped.  I  listened  as  if  she  brought  revelations 
from  another  world.  I  understood  nothing,  and  yet 
divined  what  she  thought.  The  count  and  physician 
listened  to  her  with  equal  astonishment.  Both  assured 
me  afterward,  that  Hortensia  had  never  spoken  so 
clearly,  connectedly,  and  supernaturally,  as  at  this  time  ; 
that  her  communications  had  been  broken,  and  made 
often  under  great  suffering  ;  she  frequently  fell  into  the 
most  frightful  convulsions,  or  would  lie  for  many  hours 
in  a  torpid  state ;  that  she  very  rarely  answered  ques 
t.ions,  but  now  the  conversation  appeared  not  at  all  to 
fatigue  her. 

I  reminded  her  of  her  weakness,  and  inquired  if  talk¬ 
ing  so  much  did  not  exhaust  her  strength.  ?  She 


•176 


APPENDIX 


declared,  “Not  in  tlie  least!  She  is  well.  She  will 
always  be  well,  when  thou  art  with  her.  In  seven 
minntes  she  will  awaken.  She  will  enjoy  a  quiet  night. 
But  to-morrow  afternoon,  about  three  o’clock,  her  sleep 
will  return.  Then  fail  not,  Emanuel.  Five  minutes 
before  three  the  cramps  will  begin  ;  then,  blessing  her, 
stretch  thy  hands  toward  her,  with  an  earnest  desire  of 
healing  her.  Five  minutes  before  three,  and  by  the 
clock  in  thy  chamber,  not  by  thy  watch,  which  is  three 
minutes  different  from  the  clock.  Set  thy  watch  exactly 
by  the  clock,  that  the  sick  may  not  suffer  by  their  dif¬ 
ference.” 

She  also  mentioned  several  trifling  circumstances  ; 
ordered  what  they  should  give  her  to  drink  on  awaken¬ 
ing  ;  what  for  her  supper ;  at  what  time  she  should  go 
to  bed,  and  gave  other  similar  directions.  She  was 
then  silent.  The  former  death-like  stillness  reigned. 
Her  face  gradually  became  paler,  as  it  usually  was  ; 
the  animation  of  her  countenance  disappeared.  She 
now  first  appeared  to  wish  to  sleep,  or  actually  to  be 
asleep.  She  no  longer  held  herself  upright,  but  sank 
down  carelessly,  and  nodded,  as  is  usual  with  a  person 
sleeping.  She  then  began  to  extend  her  arms  and 
stretch  herself,  yawned,  rubbed  her  eyes,  opened  them, 
and  was  almost  in  the  same  minute  awake  and  cheer¬ 
ful,  as  she  had  announced. 

When  she  saw  me  she  appeared  surprised — she 
looked  around  on  the  others.  The  women  hastened  to 
her,  also  the  count  and  doctor. 

“  What  do  you  want  ?”  she  asked  me,  in  a  hard 
tone. 

“  Gracious  lady,  I  wait  your  commands.” 


APPENDIX. 


377 


“  Who  are  you  ?” 

“Faust,  at  your  service.” 

“  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  your  good  will,  but  desire 
I  may  be  left  alone !”  said  she,  somewhat  vexed  ;  then 
bowing  proudly  toward  me,  she  arose  and  turned  her 
back  on  me. 

I  left  the  room  with  a  singular  mixture  of  feelings. 
How  immeasurably  dilferent  was  the  waking  from  the 
sleeping  person  !  My  gold  and  silver  rays  disappeared  ; 
also  her  confidential  thou,  which  penetrated  deep  into 
my  innermost  feelings — even  the  name  of  Emanuel, 
with  which  she  had  enriched  me,  was  no  longer  of 
value. 

Musingly,  I  entered  my  chamber,  like  one  who  had 
been  reading  fairy  tales,  and  became  so  absorbed  in 
them  that  he  holds  the  enchantment  for  reality.  The 
arm-chair  before  my  writing-table  was  wanting.  I 
placed  another,  and  wrote  down  the  wonderful  tale,  as 
I  had  experienced  it,  and  as  much  of  Ilortensia’s  con¬ 
versation  as  I  recollected,  since  I  feared  that  I  might 
not  hereafter  believe  it  myself,  if  I  had  it  not  written 
before  me.  I  had  promised  to  pardon  all  the  harshness 
the  might  use  toward  me  while  awake — willingly  did  I 
forgive  her.  But  she  was  so  beautiful  !  I  could  not 
have  borne  it  with  indifference. 


A  SECOND  TRANSFIGURATION. 

The  next  day  the  count  visited  me  in  my  room  to 
inform  me  of  the  quiet  night  Hortensia  ha  j  enjoyed, 


APPENDIX. 


378 

and  also  that  she  was  stronger  and  more  animated 
than  she  had  been  for  a  long  time.  At  breakfast,  I 
told  her,”  said  he,  all  that  had  passed  yesterday. 
She  shook  her  head,  and  would  not  believe  me,  or 
otherwise  she  said  she  must  have  paroxysms  of  delirium, 
and  began  to  weep.  I  quieted  her.  I  told  her  that, 
without  doubt,  her  restoration  to  health  was  near,  since 
in  you.  dear  Faust,  there  certainly  dwells  some  divine 
power,  of  which  hitherto  you  have  probably  been  un¬ 
conscious.  I  begged  her  to  receive  you  into  her  society 
during  her  waking  hours,  since  I  promised  myself  much 
from  your  presence,  but  could  not  move  her  to  consent. 
She  asserted  that  your  sight  was  insupportable  to  her, 
and  that  only  by  degrees  could  she  perhaps  accustom 
herself  to  your  appearance.  What  can  we  do  ?  She 
can  not  be  forced  to  any  thing,  without  placing  her 
life  in  danger.” 

Thus  he  spoke,  and  sought  in  every  way  to  excuse 
Hortensia  to  me.  He  showed  me,  as  if  in  contrast  to 
Hortensia’s  offensive  antipathy,  self-will,  and  pride,  the 
most  moving  confidence  ;  spoke  of  his  family  circum¬ 
stances,  of  his  possessions,  law-suits,  and  other  disagree¬ 
able  circumstances  ;  desired  my  counsel,  and  promised 
to  lay  all  his  papers  before  me,  in  order  that  my  opinion 
of  his  affairs  might  be  more  precise.  He  did  so,  that 
same  day.  Initiated  in  all,  even  his  most  secret  con¬ 
cerns,  I  became  every  day  more  intimate  with  him  ; 
his  friendship  appeared  to  increase  in  proportion  as  the 
antipathy  which  his  daughter  had  taken  to  me  aug¬ 
mented.  At  length  I  conducted  all  his  correspondence 
— had  also  the  management  of  his  income,  and  the 
government  of  his  household — so  that,  in  short,  1  be- 


APPENDIX. 


379 


came  every  thing  to  him.  Convinced  of  my  honesty  and 
good-will,  he  depended  on  me  with  unlimited  confi¬ 
dence,  and  only  seemed  discontented  when  he  perceived, 
that  with  the  exception  of  mere  necessaries,  I  desired 
nothing  for  myself,  and  constantly  refused  all  his  rich 
presents.  Dr.  Walter  and  all  the  domestics,  as  well 
male  as  female,  soon  remarked  what  extraordinary 
influence  I  had,  as  suddenly  as  unexpectedly,  attained. 
They  surrounded  me  with  attentions  and  flattery.  This 
unmerited  and  general  good-will  made  me  very  happy, 
though  I  would  willingly  have  exchanged  it  all  for  mere 
friendship  from  the  inimitable  countess.  She,  however, 
remained  unpropitiated.  Her  antipathy  appeared  al¬ 
most  to  degenerate  into  hate.  She  cautioned  her  father 
against  me,  as  against  a  cunning  adventurer  and 
impostor.  With  her  women  she  called  me  only  the 
vagabond,  who  had  nestled  himself  in  her  father’s  con¬ 
fidence.  The  old  count,  at  last,  scarce  dared  to  mention 
me  in  her  presence.  But  I  will  not  anticipate  the 
history  and  course  of  events. 

My  watch  was  regulated.  It  was  really  three  minutes 
different  from  the  clock.  Five  minutes  before  three 
in  the  afternoon,  neither  sooner  nor  later,  I  entered, 
unannounced,  Ilortensia’s  room.  The  witnesses  of 
the  day  before  were  present.  She  sat  on  a  sofa,  in  a 
thoughtful  position,  but  with  her  own  peculiar  grace, 
pale  and  suffering.  As  she  perceived  me,  she  threw  a 
proud,  contemptuous  look  on  me,  rose  hastily,  and 
cried,  “  Who  gave  you  permission — without  being  an¬ 
nounced - ” 

A  violent  shriek  and  fierce  convulsions  stopped  her 
voice.  She  sank  into  the  arms  of  her  women.  The 


APPENDIX. 


580 

chair  which  she  had  desired  the  day  before  was  brought 
to  her.  Scarcely  was  she  seated  in  it  than  she  began 
in  the  .most  frightful  manner,  and  with  incredible  veloc¬ 
ity,  to  strike  herself,  both  on  the  body  and  head,  with 
her  clenched  fist.  I  could  scarcely  support  the  horrible 
spectacle.  Tremblingly,  I  took  the  position  which  she 
had  prescribed  the  day  before,  and  directed  the  finger- 
ends  of  both  my  hands  toward  her.  But  she,  with  eyes 
convulsively  distorted  and  fixed,  seized  them,  and  thrust 
the  fingers  with  violence  many  times  against  her  person. 
She  soon  became  more  tranquil,  closed  her  eyes,  and 
after  she  had  given  some  deep  sighs,  appeared  to  sleep. 
Her  countenance  betrayed  pain.  She  fretted  softly  for 
some  time.  But  soon  the  pain  appeared  to  subside. 
She  now  sighed  twice,  but  gently.  Her  countenance 
gradually  became  clearer,  and  soon  again  resumed  the 
expression  of  internal  blessedness,  while  the  paleness  of 
her  face  was  overspread  by  a  soft  color. 

After  some  minutes,  she  said,  “  Thou,  true  friend ! 
without  thee  what  would  become  of  me  ?”  She  spoke 
these  words  with  a  solemn  tenderness,  with  which 
angels  alone  might  greet  each  other.  Her  tones  vi¬ 
brated  on  all  my  nerves. 

“  Are  you  well,  gracious  lady  ?”  said  I,  almost  in  a 
whisper— since  I  yet  feared  she  might  show  me  the 
door. 

“  Very,  oh  !  very,  Emanuel !”  answered  she,  “  as  well 
as  yesterday,  and  even  more  so.  It  seems  thy  will  is 
more  decided,  and  thy  power  to  assist  her  increased. 
She  breathes — she  swims  in  the  shining  circle  which 
surrounds  thee :  her  being,  penetrated  by  thine,  is  in 
thee  dissolved.  Could  she  be  ever  so  !” 


APPKNDIX. 


381 


To  us  prosaical  listeners,  this  manner  of  r peaking 
was  very  unintelligible,  though  to  me  in  no  way  ;.npleas- 
ing.  I  legretted  only  that  Hortensia  thought  not  of 
me,  but  of  an  Emanuel,  and  probably  deceived  herself. 
Yet  I  received  some  comfort,  when  I  afterward  learned 
from  the  count,  that  to  his  knowledge  none  of  his  rela¬ 
tions  or  acquaintances  bore  the  name  of  Emanuel. 

Her  father  asked  her  some  questions,  but  she  did  not 
hear  them — as  she  began  in  the  midst  of  one  of  them 
to  speak  to  me.  He  approached  nearer  to  her.  When 
he  stood  by  me,  she  became  more  attentive. 

“  How,  dear  father,  art  thou  here  ?”  said  she.  She 
now  answered  his  questions.  I  asked  her  why  she  had 
not  observed  him  sooner. 

She  replied,  “  He  stood  in  the  dark — only  near  thee 
is  it  light.  Thou  also  shinest,  father,  but  weaker  than 
Emanuel,  but  only  by  reflection  from  him.” 

I  then  said  to  her  that  there  were  yet  more  persons  in 
the  room ;  she  made  a  long  pause,  then  named  them  all, 
even  the  places  where  they  were.  Her  eyes  were  con¬ 
stantly  closed,  yet  she  could  denote  what  passed  behind 
her.  Yes,  she  even  remarked  the  number  of  persons 
who  were  passing  in  a  gondola  in  the  canal  before  the 
house,  and  it  was  correct. 

“  But  how  is  it  possible  that  you  can  know  this,  since 
you  do  not  see  them  ?”  said  I. 

“  Did  she  not  declare  to  you  yesterday  that  she  was 
sick?  That  it  is  not  the  body  which  discerns  the  outer 
world,  but  the  soul.  Flesh,  blood,  and  the  frame  of 
bones  is  only  the  shell  which  surrounds  the  noble 
kernel.  The  shell  is  now  torn,  and  its  vital  power 
would  repair  the  defects,  but  can  not  without  assistance. 


3S2 


APPENDIX. 


Therefore  the  spirit  calls  for  thee.  The  soul,  flowing 
out  and  searching  in  the  universe,  finds  thee,  aud  fulfills 
its  duty  with  thy  power.  When  her  earthly  waking 
comes,  she  sees,  she  hears,  and  feels  more  quickly  and 
acutely ;  but  only  that  which  is  external  and  near — that 
which  approaches  her.  Now,  however,  she  meets 
things  whether  she  will  or  not;  she  touches  not,  but 
penetrates;  she  guesses  not,  but  knows.  In  dreams 
thou  goest  to  the  objects,  not  they  to  thee  ;  and  thou 
knowest  them,  and  wherefore  they  so  act.  Even  now,  it 
is  to  her  like  a  dream  ;  nevertheless,  she  knows  well 
that  she  is  awake,  but  her  body  wakes  not ;  the  outward 
senses  do  not  assist  her.” 

She  next  spoke  much  of  her  sickness,  of  her  sleep¬ 
waking,  of  a  long  fainting  fit,  in  which  she  once  laid — 
what  had  passed  within  her,  and  what  she  had  thought 
while  those  around  wept  her  as  dead.  The  count 
heard  her  with  astonishment,  since,  besides  many  cir¬ 
cumstances  of  which  he  was  ignorant,  she  touched  upon 
others  which  had  occurred  during  her  ten  hours’  stupor, 
of  which  no  one  but  himself  could  have  known ;  for 
example,  how  he  had  in  despair  left  her,  gone  into  his 
chamber,  fallen  on  his  knees,  and  prayed  in  hopeless 
agony.  He  had  never  mentioned  this,  and  no  one 
could  have  seen  him,  since  not  only  at  the  time  had 
he  fastened  the  door,  but  it  was  also  night,  and  his 
chamber  without  a  light.  How,  that  Hortensia  spoke 
of  it,  he  did  not  deny  it.  It  was  incomprehensible  how 
she  could  have  known  it  in  her  fainting  fit,  and  yet 
more  so  that  she  could  recollect  it  at  this  time,  as  the 
incident  had  occurred  in  her  early  childhood.  She 


APPENDIX. 


383 


could  scarcely  have  been  more  than  eight  years  old  at 
the  time. 

It  was  also  remarkable  that  she  always  spoke  of  her¬ 
self  in  the  third  person,  as  of  a  stranger,  when  she  re¬ 
lated  her  own  history,  or  spoke  of  herself,  as  she  stood 
in  the  civil  and  social  relations.  Once  she  said  expli¬ 
citly,  “  I  am  no  countess,  but  she  is  a  countess  !”  An¬ 
other  time,  “  I  am  not  the  daughter  of  Count  Ilor- 
megg,  but  she  is.” 

As  her  whole  exterior  appeared  in  a  floating  trans¬ 
figuration,  more  quiet,  more  exalted,  more  beautiful 
than  usual,  so  was  her  voice  a  language  in  conformity 
to  it.  It  was,  though  as  soft  and  clear,  yet  more  solemn 
than  in  common  life  ;  every  expression  was  chosen,  and 
sometimes  even  poetical.  There  was  frequently  a 
singular  obscurity  in  her  words — often  an  apparent 
total  want  of  connection,  occasioned  partly  because  she 
spoke  of  things,  or  observed  them  in  a  point  of  view 
foreign  to  us.  She,  however,  spoke  willingly,  and  with 
pleasure,  particularly  when  questioned  by  me.  Some¬ 
times  she  was  in  a  long  and  quiet  reflection,  during 
which  one  might  read  in  her  features  the  expression, 
sometimes  of  a  discontented,  sometimes  a  contented 
research,  astonishment,  admiration,  or  delight.  She 
interrupted  this  deep  silence,  from  time  to  time,  with 
single  exclamations,  when  she  lisped  “  Holy  God  !” 

Once  she  began  of  herself :  “  Now  is  the  world 
changed.  It  is  one  great  One,  and  that  eternal  one  is 
a  spiritual  one.  There  is  no  difference  between  body 
and  spirit,  since  all  is  spirit,  and  all  can  become  body, 
when  they  associate  together,  so  that  they  may  feel  as  a 
single  one.  The  all  (or  the  component  parts)  is  as  if 


384 


APPENDIX. 


formed  from  the  purest  ether ;  the  all,  acting  and  mov* 
ing ;  transforming  itself ;  since  all  will  unite  ;  and  the 
one  counterbalances  the  other.  It  is  an  eternal  ferment¬ 
ation  of  life,  an  eternal  vibration  between  too  much 
and  too  little.  Seest  thou  how  clouds  move  in  the 
clearest  heaven  ?  They  float  and  swell,  till  the  mass  is 
f  iled  ;  then,  attracted  by  the  earth,  they  penetrate  it  in 
the  form  of  life  or  rain.  Seest  thou  the  flower?  A 
spark  of  life  has  fallen  in  the  midst  of  a  throng  of  other 
powers  ;  it  unites  itself  with  all  that  may  be  of  service 
to  it,  forms  them,  and  the  germ  becomes  a  plant,  until 
the  inferior  powers  overgrow  and  dislodge  the  original 
power.  And  as  the  spark  is  expelled,  they  fall  asunder, 
since  nothing  any  longer  binds  them  together.  She  is 
the  formation  and  decay  of  man.” 

She  said  yet  much  more,  wholly  unintelligible  to  me. 
Her  transfiguration  ended  like  the  first.  She  again 
announced  the  period  of  her  earthly  waking,  likewise 
the  occurrence  of  a  similar  state  the  next  day.  She 
dismissed  me  with  the  same  dark  looks  as  on  the  first 
day,  as  soon  as  she  opened  her  eyes. 


SYMPATHY  AND  ANTIPATHY. 

Thus  it  continued,  always  in  the  same  way,  for  some 
months.  Her  extraordinary  indisposition  experienced 
only  insignificant  changes,  from  which  I  could  neither 
affirm  that  they  denoted  improvement  or  the  contrary. 
For,  if  she  suffered  less  from  cramps  and  convulsions— 
and  while  awake  there  was  not  the  slightest  trace  of 


APPENDIX. 


385 


uncomfortable  feeling,  except  extreme  irritability — her 
unnatural  sleep  and  transfiguration  returned  more 
frequently,  so  that  I  was  often  called  two  or  three  times 
in  a  day. 

I  became  thus  completely  the  slave  of  the  house.  I 
dared  not  absent  myself  even  for  a  few  hours.  Any 
neglect  might  cause  serious  danger.  How  willingly  did 
I  bear  the  yoke  of  slavery  !  I  never  faltered.  My 
soul  trembled  with  joy,  when  the  moment  allotted  to 
the  beautiful  miracle  came.  Each  day  adorned  her 
with  higher  charms.  Had  I  but  for  one  hour  seen  and 
heard  her,  I  had  sufficient  remembrance  to  banquet  on 
for  a  long  time  in  my  solitude.  Oh  !  the  intoxication 
of  first  love. 

Yes,  I  deny  it  not,  it  was  love ;  but  1  may  truly 
say,  not  earthly,  but  celestial  love.  My  whole  being 
was  in  a  new  manner  bound  to  this  Delphic  priestess, 
by  an  awe  in  which  even  the  hope  died  of  ever  being 
worthy  of  her  most  insignificant  looks.  Could  the 
countess  have  endured  me  without  disgust,  even  as  the 
most  unimportant  of  her  attendants,  I  should  have 
thought  that  heaven  could  have  offered  no  higher 
happiness.  But,  as  in  her  transfigured  state,  her  kind¬ 
ness  toward  me  seemed  to  increase,  even  so  did  her 
aversion,  as  soon  as,  when  waking,  she  saw  me.  This 
dislike  grew  at  last  into  the  bitterest  abhorrence.  She 
declared  this  on  every  occasion,  and  always  in  the  most 
irritating  manner.  She  daily  entreated  her  father,  and 
always  more  harshly,  to  send  me  from  the  house  ;  she 
conjured  him  with  tears ;  she  affirmed  that  I  could  con¬ 
tribute  nothing  to  her  recovery  ;  and  were  it  so,  all  the 
good  I  could  effect  during  her  unconscious  state  was 
17 


386 


APPENDIX. 


again  destroyed  by  the  vexation  my  presence  caused 
her.  She  despised  me  as  a  common  vagabond,  as  a  man 
of  low  origin,  who  should  not  be  allowed  to  breathe  the 
same  air  with  her — to  say  nothing  of  so  intimate  con¬ 
nection  with  her,  or  the  enjoyment  of  such  great  confi¬ 
dence  from  Count  Hormegg. 

It  is  well  known  that  women,  particularly  the  hand¬ 
some,  indulged  and  self-willed,  have  humors,  and  con¬ 
sider  it  not  unbecoming  if  they  sometimes  or  always 
are  a  little  inconsistent  with  themselves.  But  never  in 
any  mortal  could  more  contradiction  be  found,  than  in 
the  beautiful  Ilortensia.  What  she,  waking,  thought, 
said,  or  did,  she  contradicted  in  the  moments  of  her 
trance.  She  entreated  the  count  not  to  regard  what 
she  might  advance  against  me.  She  asserted  that  an 
increase  of  her  illness  would  be  the  inevitable  conse¬ 
quence  of  my  leaving  the  house,  and  would  end  in  her 
death.  She  entreated  me  not  to  regard  her  humors, 
but  generously  to  pardon  her  foolish  behavior,  and  to 
live  under  the  conviction  that  she  would  certainly 
improve  in  her  conduct  toward  me  as  her  disease 
abated. 

I  was,  in  fact,  as  much  astonished  as  the  others  at 
Ilortensia’s  extraordinary  inclination  to  me  during  her 
transfigured  state.  She  seemed,  as  it  were,  only  through 
me,  and  in  me,  to  live.  She  guessed,  indeed,  she  knew 
my  thoughts — especially  when  they  had  any  relation 
to  her.  It  was  unnecessary  to  express  my  little  instruc¬ 
tions  ;  she  executed  them.  However  incredible  it  may 
be,  it  is  not  the  less  true,  that  she,  with  her  hands, 
followed  all  the  movements  of  mine  in  every  direction. 
She  declared  that  it  was  scarcely  any  longer  necessary 


API'ENDIX. 


387 


to  stretch  out  my  hands  toward  her,  as  at  the  commence¬ 
ment  ;  my  presence,  my  breath,  my  mere  will  sufficed 
to  her  well-being.  She  refused,  with  scorn,  to  taste  any 
wine  or  water  that  I  had  not,  as  she  said,  consecrated 
by  laying  my  hands  on,  and  made  healthful  by  the  light 
streaming  from  the  ends  of  my  fingers.  She  went  so 
far  as  to  declare  my  slightest  wishes  to  be  her  irresisti¬ 
ble  commands. 

“  She  has  no  longer  any  free  will,”  said  she,  one  day. 
“  So  soon  as  she  knows  thy  will,  Emanuel,  she  is  con¬ 
strained  so  to  will.  Thy  thoughts  govern  her  with  a 
supernatural  power.  And  precisely  in  this  obedience, 
she  feels  her  good,  her  blessedness.  She  can  not  act 
contrary.  So  soon  as  she  ascertains  thy  thoughts,  they 
become  her  thoughts  and  laws.” 

“But  how  is  this  perception  of  my  thoughts  possi¬ 
ble,  dearest  countess  ?”  said  I.  “  I  can  not  deny  that 
you  often  discern  the  most  secret  depths  of  my  soul. 
What  a  singular  sickness — which  seems  to  make  you 
omniscient !  Who  would  not  wish  for  himself  this 
state  of  imperfection?” 

“It  is  so  also  with  her,”  said  she.  “Deceive  not 
thyself,  Emanuel ;  she  is  very  imperfect,  since  she  has 
lost  the  greater  part  of  her  individuality  ;  she  has  lost  it 
in  thee.  Shouldst  thou  die  to-day,  thy  last  breath 
would  be  her  last.  Thy  serenity  is  her  serenity — thy 
sorrow  her  sorrow.” 

“  Can  you  not  explain  to  me  the  miracle  that  causes 
in  me  the  greatest  astonishment,  and,  notwithstanding 
all  my  reflections,  remains  inexplicable  ?” 

She  was  long  silent.  After  about  ten  minutes  she 
said  :  “  No,  she  can  not  explain  it.  Come  not  persons 


3S8 


APPENDIX. 


before  tliee  in  dreams,  whose  thoughts  thou  seemest 
to  think  at  the  same  moment  with  themselves?  So  it 
is  with  her ;  and  yet  to  the  sick  one  it  exists  clearly ; 
she  is  conscious  that  she  is  awake.  Truly,”  continued 
she,  “  her  spiritual  part  is  always  the  same ;  hut  that 
which  united  the  spirit  to  the  body  is  no  longer  the 
same.  Her  shell  is  wounded  in  that  part  with  which 
the  soul  is  first  and  most  intimately  connected ;  her 
life  flows  out  and  becomes  weaker,  and  does  not  allow 
itself  to  be  bound.  Hadst  thou  not  been  found, 
Emanuel,  the  sick  would  already  have  been  released. 
As  an  uprooted  plant,  whose  powers  evaporating,  re¬ 
ceives  no  sustenance,  if  its  roots  are  again  laid  in  fresh 
soil,  will  imbibe  new  life  from  the  earth,  put  forth 
branches  and  become  green — thus  is  it  with  the  sick. 
Soul  and  life  in  the  all  flowing  way,  finds  nourishment 
in  thy  life's  fullness;  forces  new  roots  in  thy  being,  and 
is  restored  to  thee.  She  is  an  extinguished  light  in  a 
broken  vessel ;  but  the  dried  wick  of  life  nourishes 
itself  again  in  the  oil  of  thy  lamp.  Thus  the  sick, 
now  spiritually  rooted  in  thee,  exists  from  the  same 
powers  as  thou,  therefore  has  she  pleasure  and  pain, 
will,  and  even  thought,  as  thou  hast.  Thou  art  her 
life,  Emanuel.” 

^Neither  the  women  nor  the  doctor  could  refrain  from 
smiles  at  this  tender  declaration  of  the  petulant  count¬ 
ess.  On  the  same  day,  the  count  said  to  me : — 

“Will  you  not  for  a  jest  make  the  strongest  essay  of 
your  power  over  Hortensia  ?” 

“  And  how  ?”  replied  I. 

“  Desire,  as  a  proof  of  her  obedience,  that  Hortensia 
shall  have  you  called,  when  she  is  awake,  and  volun- 


APPENDIX. 


389 


tarilj  give  you,  as  a  present,  the  most  beautiful  of  the 
roses  which  are  blooming  in  her  vases.” 

“  It  is  too  much ;  it  would  be  indiscreet.  You 
know,  count,  what  an  unconquerable  aversion  she  has 
to  poor  Faust,  as  much  even  as  she  appears  to  have 
regard  for  Emanuel.” 

“  Even  for  that  reason  I  entreat  you  to  make  the 
trial,  were  it  only  to  discover  whether  your  will  is 
powerful  enough  to  have  effect  out  of  the  state  of 
transfiguration,  and  in  the  waking  usual  life.  ISTo  one 
shall  tell  her  what  you  have  wished.  Therefore,  it 
shall  be  arranged  that  no  person  except  you  and  my¬ 
self  shall  be  present  when  you  express  the  wish.” 

I  promised  to  obey — though,  I  confess,  rather  un¬ 
willingly. 


THE  ROSE. 

When  I  went  to  her  the  following  morning,  as  she 
lay  in  the  slumber  which  usually  preceded  her  trans¬ 
figuration — and  I  never  showed  myself  earlier — I  found 
the  count  there  alone.  He  reminded  me  by  a  look, 
and  with  laughing  eyes,  of  the  agreement  the  day 
before. 

Hortensia  passed  into  her  transfigured  waking  state, 
and  immediately  commenced  a  friendly  conversation. 
She  assured  us  that  her  sickness  had  almost  reached  the 
turning  point,  when  it  would  gradually  diminish ;  this 
would  be  known  by  her  having  less  clear  perceptions  in 
her  sleep.  I  became  more  embarrassed  the  more  the 
count  motioned  to  me  to  bring  forward  my  experiment. 


APPENDIX. 


390 

In  order  to  divert  or  encourage  myself,  I  went 
silently  through  the  room  to  the  window  where  Ilor- 
tensia’s  flowers  bloomed,  and  with  my  fingers  played 
with  the  branches  of  a  rose-bush.  Inadvertently,  I 
stuck  a  thorn  rather  deep  into  the  end  of  my  middle 
finger. 

Hortensia  gave  a  loud  cry.  I  hurried  to  her ;  the 
count  likewise.  She  complained  of  a  violent  prick  in 
the  point  of  the  middle  finger  of  her  right  hand.  The 
appearance  of  her  finger  belonged  to  the  witchcrafts,  to 
which,  since  my  intercourse  with  her,  I  had  been  accus¬ 
tomed.  In  fact,  I  thought  I  could  remark  a  scarcely 
visible  blue  spot ;  the  next  day,  however,  a  small  sore 
developed  itself,  and  likewise  on  my  finger,  only  mine 
was  sooner  healed. 

“  It  is  my  fault,  Emanuel,”  said  she,  after  the  lapse 
of  a  few  minutes;  “thou  hast  wounded  thyself  with 
the  rose-bush.  Take  care  of  thyself — what  befalls 
thee  happens  also  to  me.” 

She  was  silent.  I  also.  My  thoughts  were  how  I 
should  bring  forward  my  proposition.  The  wounding 
appeared  the  fittest  occasion.  The  count  motioned  me 
to  take  courage. 

“  Wherefore  dost  thou  not  speak  out  ?”  said  Horten- 
sia ;  “  ask  that  she  should  have  you  called  at  twelve 
o’clock  to-day,  before  she  goes  to  eat,  and  present  you 
with  a  new-blown  rose.” 

With  amazement  I  heard  my  wish  from  her  lips* 
“  I  feared  to  offend  you  bv  my  boldness !”  said  I. 

“  Oh  !  Emanuel,  she  well  knows  that  her  father  him¬ 
self  suggested  the  wish  !”  replied  she,  smiling. 

“  It  is,  likewise,  my  ardent  wish !”  stammered  L 


APPENDIX. 


391 


“  But  will  you,  at  twelve,  when  awake,  remember 
it?” 

“  Can  she  do  otherwise  ?”  she  replied,  with  a  good- 
lmmored  smile. 

As  the  conversation  on  this  subject  ended,  the  count 
went  out  and  brought  in  the  women  and  the  doctor, 
who  were  waiting  without.  After  about  half  an  hour, 
I,  as  usual,  so  soon  as  the  transfigured  was  lost  in  a  real 
sleep,  absented  myself.  It  might  have  been  about  ten 
o’clock. 

Upon  waking,  Hortensia  showed  the  doctor  her  pain¬ 
ful  finger.  She  believed  that  she  had  wounded  herself 
with  the  point  of  a  needle,  and  wa3  astonished  not  to 
find  some  outward  injury. 

About  eleven  she  became  restless,  walked  up  and 
down  her  room,  sought  out  all  sorts  of  things,  began  to 
speak  of  me  to  the  women,  or  rather,  after  her  usual 
habit,  to  pour  on  me  the  fullness  of  her  anger,  and  to 
attack  her  father  with  reproaches  that  he  had  not  yet 
dismissed  me. 

“  This  obtrusive  man  is  not  worth  my  spending  so 
many  tears  and  words  about.  I  know  not  what  forces 
me  to  think  of  him,  and  to  embitter  every  hour  with 
the  hated  thought.  It  is  already  too  much  that  I  know 
him  to  be  under  the  same  roof,  and  that  I  know  how 
much  you  esteem  him,  dear  father.  I  could  swear  the 
wicked  man  has  bewitched  me.  Therefore,  take  care, 
dear  father,  I  certainly  do  not  deceive  myself.  You 
will  have  cause,  one  day,  bitterly  to  repent  your  good 
nature.  He  will  deceive  you  and  all  of  us  some  day.” 

“  I  entreat  you,  my  child,”  said  the  count,  k‘  do  not 
be  forever  vexing  and  fatiguing  yourself  with  speaking 


302 


APPENlJIX. 


of  him.  You  do  not  know  him  ;  you  have  only  soon 
him  twice,  and  hut  transiently.  Plow  can  you  then 
pronounce  a  condemnatory  judgment  upon  him  ?  Wait 
till  I  surprise  him  in  some  false  act.  In  the  mean 
while,  do  you  be  tranquil.  It  is  sufficient  that  he  dare 
not  appear  in  your  presence.” 

Hortensia  was  silent.  She  spoke  with  the  women 
on  other  subjects.  They  asked  her  if  she  was  not  well; 
she  knew  not  what  to  answer.  She  began  to  weep. 
They  endeavored  in  vain  to  discover  the  cause  of  her 
grief  and  melancholy.  She  concealed  her  face  in  the 
cushion  on  the  sofa,  and  begged  of  her  father  as  well  as 
her  women,  to  leave  her  alone. 

A  quarter  before  twelve  they  heard  her  ring.  She 
directed  the  woman,  who  answered  her  summons,  to  say 
to  me,  that  I  should  come  there  as  soon  as  the  clock 
struck  twelve. 

Notwithstanding  I  anxiously  expected  this  invitation, 
it  caused  me  great  surprise.  In  part  from  the  extraor¬ 
dinary  fact  itself,  and  in  part  from  fright,  I  was  as  much 
perplexed  as  embarrassed.  I  went  many  times  before 
my  glass,  in  order  to  see  if  I  really  had  a  face  made  to 
awaken  horror.  But — it  struck  twelve.  With  a  beat¬ 
ing  heart,  I  went  and  heard  myself  announced  to  xior- 
tensia.  I  was  admitted. 

She  sat  negligently  on  the  sofa ;  her  beautiful  head, 
shaded  with  her  raven  locks,  rested  on  her  soft  white 
arm.  She  reluctantly  arose  as  I  entered.  With  a  weak, 
uncertain  voice,  and  a  look  which  implored  her  mercy, 
I  declared  myself  there  to  hear  her  commands. 

Hortensia  did  not  answer.  She  came  slowly  and 
thoughtfully  toward  me,  as  if  she  sought  for  words.  At 


APPENDIX. 


393 

last  she  remained  standing  before  me,  threw  a  contempt¬ 
uous  side  look  at  me,  and  said  : — 

“Mr.  Faust,  it  seems  to  me  that  it  is  I  who  should 
entreat,  in  order  to  induce  you  to  leave  the  house  and 
train  of  my  father.” 

“  Countess,”  said  I,  and  the  manly  pride  was  a  little 
roused  in  me,  “  I  have  forced  myself  neither  on  you  nor 
the  count.  You  yourself  know  on  what  grounds  your 
father  entreated  me  to  remain  in  his  company.  I  did 
so  unwillingly  ;  but  the  heartfelt  kindness  of  the  count, 
and  the  hope  of  being  useful  to  you,  prevents  my  obey- 
ing  your  expressed  command,  however  it  may  distress 
me  to  displease  you.” 

She  turned  her  back  on  me,  and  played  with  a  little 
pair  of  scissors  near  a  rose-bush  at  the  window.  Sud¬ 
denly  she  cut  the  last-blown  rose  off- — it  was  beautiful, 
although  simple — she  reached  it  to  me,  and  said,  “  Take 
the  best  which  I  have  now  at  hand :  I  give  it  to  you  as 
a  reward  for  having  hitherto  avoided  me.  Never  come 
again !” 

She  spoke  this  so  quickly,  and  with  such  visible  em¬ 
barrassment,  that  I  scarcely  understood  it ;  she  then 
threw  herself  again  on  the  sofa,  and  as  I  wished  to 
answer,  she  motioned  to  me  hastily,  with  her  face 
turned,  to  go  away.  I  obeyed. 

Even  at  the  moment  I  left  her,  I  had  already  forgot¬ 
ten  all  injuries.  I  flew  to  my  room.  Not  the  angry, 
but  only  the  suffering  Ilortensia,  in  all  her  tender  inno 
cence  swept  before  me.  The  rose  came  from  her  hand 
like  a  jewel,  whose  infinite  worth  all  the  crowns  in  the 
world  could  not  outweigh.  I  pressed  the  flower  to  my 
lips — I  lamented  its  perishable  nature.  I  thought  how 
17* 


394 


APPENDIX. 


I  should  most  securely  preserve  it — to  me  tlie  most  pre¬ 
cious  of  all  my  possessious.  I  opened  it  carefully,  and 
dried  it  between  the  leaves  of  a  book,  then  had  it  in¬ 
closed  between  two  round  crystal  glasses,  surrounded 
with  a  gold  band,  so  that  I  could  wear  it  like  an  amu¬ 
let  to  a  gold  chain  round  my  neck. 


THE  BILL  OF  EXCHANGE. 

In  the  mean  time  this  event  was  the  cause  of  much 
discomfort  to  me.  Hortensia’s  hate  of  me  spoke  out 
more  decidedly  than  ever.  Her  father,  entirely  too 
gentle,  made  my  defense  in  vain.  His  conviction  that 
I  was  an  honest  man,  as  well  as  my  usefulness  in  the 
common  affairs  of  his  house,  and  his  firm  belief  that  I 
was  indispensable  to  the  saving  of  his  daughter,  were 
sufficient  to  render  him  for  a  long  time  deaf  to  all  the 
whisperings  which  aimed  at  my  downfall.  In  a  short 
time,  he  was  the  only  one  in  the  house  that  honored  me 
with  a  friendly  word  or  look.  I  remarked,  that  gradu¬ 
ally  the  women,  Dr.  Walter  himself,  and  at  last  the 
lowest  servant  of  the  family,  kept  shyly  at  a  distance, 
and  treated  me  with  a  marked  coldness.  I  learnt  from 
the  true-hearted  Sebald,  who  remained  devoted  to  me, 
that  my  expulsion  was  aimed  at,  and  that  the  countess 
had  sworn  to  turn  any  one  out  of  her  service  who  dared 
to  have  any  kind  of  intercourse  with  me.  Her  com¬ 
mand  was  so  much  the  more  effectual,  as,  from  the  phy¬ 
sician  and  steward  to  the  lowest  servant  in  the  house, 
each  one  considered  himself  lucky  to  be  a  domestic  in 


APPENDIX. 


395 


so  rich  a  house ;  and  while  they  only  considered  me  aa 
one  of  their  equals,  they  envied  me  my  unlimited  credit 
with  the  count. 

Such  a  situation  must  of  course  become  unpleasing 
to  me.  I  lived  in  Venice,  in  one  of  the  most  brilliant 
houses,  more  solitary  than  in  a  wilderness,  without  a 
friend  or  familiar  acquaintance.  I  knew  my  steps 
and  motions  were  watched ;  nevertheless  I  endured  it 
with  patience.  The  noble  count  suffered  no  less  than 
myself  from  Ilortensia’s  caprices.  lie  often  sought 
comfort  near  me.  I  was  the  most  eloquent  advocate  for 
my  beautiful  persecutor,  who  treated  me  during  her 
transfigurations  with  as  much  kindness,  I  might  almost 
say  tenderness,  as  she  vexed  me,  when  out  of  this  state, 
with  the  effects  of  her  hatred  and  pride.  It  seemed  as 
if  she  were  governed  alternately  by  two  inimical 
demons :  the  one  an  angel  of  light,  the  other  of  dark¬ 
ness.  At  last  even  the  old  count  began  to  watch  me  and 
became  more  reserved ;  the  situation  was  insupportable 
to  me.  I  had  only  lately  perceived  how  he  was  tor¬ 
mented  on  all  sides ;  how  particularly  Dr.  Walter  sought 
to  shake  his  confidence  in  me,  by  many  repeated  little 
malicious  remarks;  and  what  a  deep  impression  a 
reproach  of  Hortensia’s  once  made,  when  she  said : 
“  Have  we  all  made  ourselves  dependent  on  this  un- 
Known  man  ?  They  say  my  life  is  in  his  power ;  well, 
pay  him  for  his  trouble ;  more  he  does  not  merit. 
But  he  is  also  to  be  a  participator  in  our  family 
secrets.  We  are,  in  our  most  important  affairs,  in  his 
charge ;  so  that,  were  I  even  in  health,  we  could 
scarcely,  without  disadvantage,  send  him  away.  Who 
is  surety  for  his  secrecy?  Ilis  apparent  disinterest! d- 


390 


API’KNDIX. 


ness,  his  honorable  appearance,  will  one  day  cost  us 
much.  The  Count  Hormegg  will  be  the  slave  of  his 
servant,  and  a  stranger,  by  his  cunning,  become  the 
tyrant  of  us  all.  This  common  fellow  is  not  only  the 
confidant  of  the  count,  whose  race  is  related  to  princely 
houses,  but  the  all-doer  and  head  of  the  family.” 

In  order  still  more  to  revolt  the  pride  of  the  count, 
the  subordinates  appeared  to  have  conspired  together  to 
fulfill  his  commands  with  a  certain  reluctance  and 
doubt,  as  if  they  were  afraid  of  displeasing  me.  Some 
carried  this  artful  boldness  so  far  as  to  express  openly 
the  question,  whether  the  command  he  gave  had  also 
my  consent.  This  acted  upon  the  count  so  much,  little 
by  little,  that  he  became  mistrustful  of  himself,  and 
believed  that  he  had  overstepped  the  limits  of  prudence. 

I  remarked  it,  however  much  he  endeavored  to  con¬ 
ceal  his  change  of  mind.  This  vexed  me.  I  had  never 
forced  myself  into  a  knowledge  of  his  circumstances  ; 
he  had  imparted  them  to  me  by  degrees,  craved  my 
counsel,  followed  it,  and  always  gained  by  it.  He  had 
voluntarily  charged  me  with  the  whole  care  of  the 
receipts  and  expenditures  of  his  income ;  it  was  by  me, 
from  the  state  of  the  greatest  confusion,  placed  in  such 
clearness,  that  he  confessed  he  never  had  such  an  insight 
into  his  household  affairs.  He  was  now  in  a  situation 
to  make  suitable  arrangements  both  of  his  money  and 
estates.  By  my  advice  he  had  terminated  two  old  per¬ 
plexed  family  lawsuits,  whose  end  was  not  to  be  seen, 
by  an  amicable  agreement,  and  by  this  compact  gained 
more  immediate  advantage  than  he  himself  hoped  to 
have  won,  if  he  had  succeeded  in  his  suit.  Many  times 
had  he,  in  the  excess  of  his  gratitude  of  friendship, 


APPENDIX.  397 

wished  to  force  considerable  presents  on  me,  but  I  had 
always  refused  them. 

For  some  weeks  I  endured  to  be  hated  and  mistaken 
by  all.  My  pride  at  last  revolted.  I  longed  to  get  out 
of  this  unpleasant  situation,  to  which  no  one  ar.y  longer 
tried  to  reconcile  me.  Hortensia,  even  she,  who  was 
the  author  of  all  the  mischief,  was  the  only  one  who,  in 
her  transtigurations,  warned  me  incessantly  not  to  regard 
any  thing  she  might  undertake  against  me  in  her  wak¬ 
ing  hours.  She  would  despise  herself  for  it ;  she  coaxed 
me  with  the  most  flattering  speeches,  as  if  she  would  in 
these  moments  requite  me  for  all  the  torments  which 
she  immediately  after,  with  redoubled  eagerness,  would 
cause  me. 

Count  Hormegg  had  called  me  one  afternoon  to  his 
cabinet.  He  desired  me  to  give  him  the  steward’s  book, 
and  also  a  bill  of  exchange,  lately  received,  for  two  thou¬ 
sand  louis-d’ors,  which  sum,  he  said,  he  wished  to  place 
in  the  Bank  of  Venice,  since  his  residence  in  Italy  would 
be  continued  for  the  year.  I  took  the  opportunity  to 
beg  him  to  confide  to  another  the  whole  of  the  business 
with  which  he  had  charged  me,  since  I  was  determined, 
so  soon  as  the  health  of  the  countess  would  permit,  to 
leave  his  house  and  Venice.  Notwithstanding  he  re¬ 
marked  the  irritability  with  which  I  spoke,  he  said 
nothing,  except  requesting  me  not  to  neglect  his  daugh¬ 
ter  and  her  care ;  but  as  to  what  regarded  the  other 
affairs,  he  would  wdllingly  disburden  me  from  them. 

This  was  sufficient.  I  saw  he  wished  to  make  me 
unnecessary  to  him.  I  went,  out  of  humor,  to  my  room, 
and  took  all  the  papers,  as  well  those  which  he  had  not 
demanded  as  those  which  he  ha.l — but  I  could  not  find 


398 


APPENDIX. 


the  bill  of  exchange ;  I  must  have  mislaid  it  among 
some  papers.  I  had  a  dim  recollection  that  it  was  in¬ 
closed  by  me  in  a  particular  paper,  and  with  some  other 
things  put  on  one  side.  My  search  was  in  vain.  The 
count,  hitherto  accustomed  to  see  his  wishes  executed 
with  the  greatest  promptitude  by  me,  would  certainly 
be  surprised  that  I  this  time  delayed.  The  next  morn¬ 
ing  he  reminded  me  of  it  again. 

“  Probably  you  have  forgotten,”  said  he,  “  that  I 
asked  you  yesterday  for  the  steward’s  book,  and  the  bill 
of  exchange.”  I  promised  to  give  them  to  him  at  mid¬ 
day.  I  looked  through  the  writings,  leaf  by  leaf,  in  vain. 
Midday  came ;  I  had  not  found  the  bewitching  bill  of 
exchange.  I  excused  myself  with  the  count,  that  I  must 
have  mislaid  a  couple  of  sheets,  which  hitherto  had  not 
happened  to  me  ;  probably  in  my  anxious  hasty  search, 
I  had  either  overlooked  some  or  taken  the  papers  for 
others,  and  placed  them  away.  I  asked  for  a  delay  the 
next  day,  since  they  could  not  be  lost,  but  only  mislaid. 
The  count  made,  it  is  true,  a  discontented  face,  but  yet 
replied,  “  There  is  time  enough  !  Do  not  hurry  your¬ 
self.” 

What  time  I  could  spare,  I  employed  in  searching. 
It  lasted  till  night.  The  following  morning  I  com¬ 
menced  anew.  My  anxiety  increased.  I  must  at  last 
believe  that  the  bill  was  lost,  stolen,  or  perhaps,  in  a 
moment  ot  absence,  employed  by  myself  as  useless 
paper.  Except  my  servant,  who  could  neither  read  nor 
write,  and  who  never  had  the  key  to  my  sitting-room,  no 
person  entered  those  apartments.  The  fellow  asserted 
that  he  never  allowed  any  one  to  enter  while  he  was 
cleaning  the  room,  still  less  had  he  ever  touched  a  paper 


APPENDIX. 


399 


Except  the  count,  no  stranger  came  to  me,  since,  from 
mj  retired  life,  I  had  made  no  acquaintance  in  Venice. 
My  embarrassment  rose  to  the  highest  pitch. 


TIIE  8INGULAR  TREACHERY. 

The  same  morning,  as  I  went  to  the  countess  to 
remain  near  her  during  her  transfiguration,  and  render 
her,  in  this  state,  the  accustomed  service,  I  thought  I 
remarked  in  the  countenance  of  the  count  a  cold  seri¬ 
ousness,  which  spoke  more  than  words.  The  thought 
that  he  suspected  my  honesty  and  truth  increased  my 
disquiet.  I  walked  before  the  sleeping  Hortensia,  and 
at  the  same  moment  it  struck  me,  that  perhaps  by  her 
wonderful  gift  of  sight,  she  might  inform  me  where  the 
papers  were.  It  was  indeed  painful  to  me  to  confess, 
before  Dr.  Walter  and  the  women,  the  charge  of 
neglect  or  disorder. 

While  I  was  yet  struggling  with  myself,  what  I  should 
do,  the  countess  complained  of  the  unsupportable  cold¬ 
ness  which  blew  from  me  toward  her,  and  which  would 
cause  her  sufferings  if  it  did  not  change. 

“  Thou  art  pained  by  some  disquiet.  Thy  thoughts, 
thy  will,  are  not  with  her,”  said  she. 

“Dear  countess,”  replied  I,  “  it  is  no  wonder.  Per¬ 
haps  it  is  in  your  power,  from  your  peculiarity  of  being 
able  to  discover  what  is  most  concealed,  to  restore  me 
again  my  peace.  I  have  lost  among  my  papers  a  bil» 
of  exchange,  which  belongs  to  your  father.” 


400 


APPENDIX. 


The  Count  Hormegg  wrinkled  his  brow.  Dr.  Wal¬ 
ter  cried :  “  I  beg  you,  do  not  trouble  the  countess,  in 
this  situation,  with  such  things.” 

I  was  silent ;  but  Hortensia  appeared  thoughtful,  and 
said,  after  some  time,  “  Thou,  Emanuel,  hast  not  lost 
the  bill ;  it  was  taken  from  thee !  Take  this  key,  open 
the  closet  there  in  the  wall.  In  my  jewel  casket  lies 
the  bill.” 

She  drew  out  a  little  golden  key,  reached  it  to  me, 
and  pointed  with  her  hand  to  the  closet.  I  hurried 
there.  One  of  the  women,  called  Elenora,  sprang  be¬ 
fore  the  closet  and  wished  to  prevent  the  opening  of  it. 
“  Your  lordship,”  cried  she,  anxiously,  to  the  count, 
“  will  not  allow  any  man  to  rummage  among  the  effects 
of  the  countess.”  Ere  she  had  yet  ended  the  words, 
she  was  with  a  strong  arm  pushed  away  by  me ;  the 
closet  opened,  the  casket  likewise,  and  behold  the  be¬ 
witched  bill  of  exchange  lay  there  on  the  top.  I  went 
with  a  face  shining  with  joy  to  the  old  count,  who  was 
speechless  and  motionless  from  astonishment.  “  Of  the 
rest,  I  shall  have  the  honor  of  speaking  to  you  hereaf¬ 
ter,”  said  I  to  the  count,  and  went  back  with  a  light 
heart  to  Hortensia,  to  whom  I  gave  back  the  key. 

“  How  thou  art  metamorphosed,  Emanuel,”  cried  she, 
with  a  countenance  of  delight.  “  Thou  art  become  a 
sun — thou  flo  a  test  in  a  sea  of  rays.” 

The  count  called  to  me  in  violent  emotion:  “  Com¬ 
mand  the  countess,  in  my  name,  to  say  how  she  car  tie 
by  these  papers.” 

I  obeyed.  Elenora  sank  down  fainting  on  a  chair. 
Dr.  AV alter  hurried  to  her,  and  was  in  the  act  of  lead¬ 
ing  her  from  the  room  as  Hortensia  began  to  speak. 


APPENDIX. 


401 


The  count  commanded,  in  an  unusually  severe  tone, 
silence  and  quiet.  No  one  dared  to  move. 

“  Out  of  hate,  beloved  Emanuel,  the  sick  had  the  bill 
taken.  She  foresaw,  maliciously,  the  difficulty,  and 
hoped  to  induce  thy  flight.  But  it  would  not  have 
happened,  since  Sebald  stood  in  a  corner  of  the  corri¬ 
dor,  while  Dr.  Walter,  with  a  double  key,  went  in  thy 
chamber,  took  the  bill,  which  thou  hadst  put  in  some  let¬ 
ters  from  Hungary,  and  gave  it  on  going  out  to  Elenora. 
Sebald  would  have  betrayed  it  all,  so  soon  as  it  was 
known  that  some  papers  of  importance  had  been  lost. 
Dr.  Walter,  who  had  seen  the  bill  of  exchange  with 
thee,  made  the  proposition  to  the  sick  to  purloin  it. 
Elenora  offered  her  assistance.  The  sick  herself  encour¬ 
aged  them  to  do  so,  and  could  scarcely  wait  for  the  time 
when  the  papers  could  be  brought  to  her.” 

During  these  words,  Dr.  Walter  stood  quite  beside 
himself,  leaning  on  Elenora’s  chair;  his  countenance 
betrayed  uneasiness ;  and,  shrugging  his  shoulders,  he 
looked  toward  the  count,  and  said :  “  From  this,  one 
may  learn  that  the  gracious  countess  may  also  speak 
erroneously.  Wait  for  her  awaking,  and  she  will  ex¬ 
plain  herself  better  how  the  papers  came  into  her 
hands.” 

The  count  made  no  answer,  but  calling  to  a  servant, 
ordered  him  to  bring  old  Sebald.  When  he  came,  he 
was  asked  whether  he  had  ever  seen  Dr.  Walter  during 
my  absence  go  into  my  room. 

“  Whether  in  the  absence  of  Mr.  Faust,  I  know  not, 
but  it  may  well  have  been  so  last  Sunday  evening,  since 
he  at  least  unlocked  the  door.  Miss  Ellen  must  know 
better  than  I,  as  she  remained  standing  on  the  stairs 


102 


APPENDIX. 


until  the  doctor  3ame  back  and  gave  her  some  notes, 
whereupon  they  talked  softly  together,  and  then  sepa¬ 
rated.” 

Sebald  was  now  permitted  to  go ;  and  the  doctor, 
with  the  half-fainting  Elenora,  were  obliged,  on  a  mo¬ 
tion  from  the  count,  to  depart.  Ilortensia  appeared 
more  animated  than  ever.  “  Fear  thee  not  from  the 
hatred  of  the  sick,”  said  she  many  times;  “she  will 
watch  over  thee  like  thy  guardian  angel.” 

The  consequence  of  this  memorable  morning  was, 
that  Dr.  Walter,  as  well  as  Elenora.  with  two  other 
servants,  were  on  that  same  day  dismissed  by  the  count, 
and  sent  from  the  house. 

To  me,  on  the  contrary,  the  count  came  and  begged 
my  pardon,  not  only  on  account  of  his  daughter’s  fault, 
but  also  for  his  own  weakness,  in  listening  to  the  ma¬ 
licious  whisperings  against  me,  and  half  crediting  them. 
He  embraced  me  and  called  me  his  friend,  the  only 
one  which  he  had  in  the  world,  and  to  whom  he  could 
open  himself  with  unlimited  confidence.  lie  conjured 
me  not  to  forsake  his  daughter  and  himself. 

“  I  know,”  said  he,  “  what  you  suffer ;  and  what 
sacrifices  you  make  on  our  account.  But  trust  with 
confidence,  to  my  gratitude  as  long  as  I  live.  Should 
the  countess  ever  be  restored  to  perfect  health,  you  will 
certainly  be  better  pleased  with  us  than  hitherto. 
Look  at  me !  Is  there  on  earth  a  more  desolate,  un¬ 
fortunate  man  than  myself?  Nothing  but  hope  sup¬ 
ports  me.  And  all  my  hopes  rest  on  your  goodness, 
and  the  continuance  of  your  patience.  What  have  I 
already  gone  through  ?  What  must  I  yet  endure  ?  The 
extraordinary  state  of  my  daughter  often  almost  de- 


APPENDIX. 


403 


prives  me  of  reason.  I  know  not  if  I  live,  or  if  destiny 
has  not  made  -me  the  instrument  of  a  fairy  tale.” 

The  distress  of  the  good  count  moved  me.  I  recon¬ 
ciled  myself  to  him,  and  even  to  my  situation,  which 
was  by  no  means  enticing.  On  the  contrary,  the 
ignoble  disposition  of  the  countess  much  weakened  the 
enthusiasm  in  which  I  had  hitherto  lived  for  her. 


FRAGMENTS  FROM  HORTENSIA’s  CONVERSATIONS. 

Through  the  kind  and  attentive  care  of  the  count,  it 
happened  that  I  now  never  saw  Hortensia  when  awake, 
for  which  I  felt  little  inclination.  I  even  did  not  learn 
how  she  thought  or  spoke  of  me,  though  I  could  easily 
imagine  it.  In  the  house  strict  order  reigned.  The 
count  had  resumed  his  authority.  No  one  ventured 
again  to  make  a  party  with  Hortensia  against  either 
of  us,  since  it  was  known  that  she  would  become  the 
accuser  of  herself  and  confederates. 

Thus  I  saw  the  extraordinary  beauty  only  in  those 
moments  when  she,  raised  above  herself,  appeared  to 
be  a  being  of  another  world.  But  these  moments  be¬ 
longed  to  the  most  solemn,  often  to  the  most  moving 
of  my  life.  The  inexpressible  charm  of  Hortensia’s 
person  was  heightened  by  an  expression  of  tender  inno¬ 
cence  and  angelic  enthusiasm.  The  strictest  modesty 
was  observed  in  her  appearance.  Only  truth  and  good¬ 
ness  were  on  her  lips ;  and  notwithstanding  her  eyes 
were  closed — in  which  otherwise,  her  feelings  were 
most  clearly  expressed — yet  one  read  the  slightest  erne 


404 


APPENDIX. 


tion,  by  the  fine  play  of  her  countenance,  as  well  as  in 
the  varied  tones  of  her  voice. 

What  she  spoke  of  the  past,  present,  or  future,  so  far 
as  the  keen  prophetic  vision  of  her  spirit  reached,  ex¬ 
cited  our  astonishment ;  sometimes  from  the  peculiarity 
of  her  views;  sometimes  from  their  incomprehensi¬ 
bility. 

She  could  give  us  no  information  of  the  how ,  though 
she  sometimes  endeavored  and  sought  by  long  reflec¬ 
tion  to  do  so.  She  knew  by  actual  sight,  as  she  said, 
all  the  interior  parts  of  her  body,  the  position  of  the 
superior  and  inferior  intestines,  of  the  bony  structures, 
of  the  ramifications  of  the  muscles  and  nerves ;  she 
could  see  the  same  in  me,  or  any  one  to  whom  I  only 
gave  my  hand.  Though  she  was  a  highly  educated 
young  lady,  yet  she  had  no  knowledge,  or  only  the 
most  confused  and  superficial,  of  the  structure  of  the 
human  frame.  I  mentioned  the  names  of  many  things 
which  she  saw  and  described  exactly ;  she,  on  the  con¬ 
trary,  corrected  my  ideas  when  they  were  not  accurate. 

Her  revelations  upon  the  nature  of  our  life,  inter¬ 
ested  me  most,  since  to  me  her  absolutely  inexplicable 
state,  led  me  most  frequently  to  question  her  on  it.  I 
wrote  down  each  time  after  leaving  her,  the  substance 
of  her  answers,  although  I  must  omit  much  which  she 
gave  in  expressions  and  images  not  sufficiently  intelli¬ 
gible. 

I  will  not  mention  here  all  that  she  spoke  at  different 
times,  but  will  only  select  and  place  in  a  better  connec¬ 
tion  what  she  revealed  concerning  things  which  excited 
my  sympathy  or  curiosity. 

As  I  once  remarked,  that  she  lost  much  in  not  being 


ArPENDIX. 


405 


able  to  recollect  in  her  natural  and  waking  state, 
what  she,  during  the  short  time  of  her  transfiguration, 
thought,  saw,  and  spoke,  she  replied  : — 

“  She  loses  nothing,  since  the  earthly  waking  is  only 
one  part  of  her  life,  that  terminates  in  certain  single 
ends;  it  is  only  circumscribed  outward  life.  But  in  the 
true,  unlimited,  interior,  pure  life,  she  is  as  conscious 
of  what  has  passed  in  her  waking  state. 

“  The  internal,  pure  life  and  consciousness  continues 
in  every  person  unbroken,  even  in  the  deepest  fainting, 
as  in  the  deepest  sleep,  which  is  only  a  fainting  of 
another  kind  and  from  other  causes.  During  sleep,  as 
in  a  fainting  fit,  the  soul  withdraws  its  activity  from  the 
instruments  of  the  senses  back  to  the  spirit.  One  is 
also  then  conscious  to  himself,  when  without,  he  appears 
unconscious,  because  the  lifeless  senses  are  silent. 

“  When  thou  art  suddenly  aroused  from  a  deep  sleep, 
on  waking,  a  dark  remembrance  will  sweep  before  thee, 
as  if  thou  hadst  thought  of  something  before  awaking, 
or  as  thou  thinkest,  dreamt,  though  thou  knowest  not 
wrhat  it  is.  The  sleep-walker  lies  in  the  fast  sleep  of 
the  outward  senses ;  he  hears  and  sees,  not  with  eyes 
and  ears;  nevertheless,  he  is- not  only  in  the  utmost  per¬ 
fection  conscious  of  himself,  and  knows  exactly  what  he 
thinks,  speaks,  and  undertakes,  but  he  remembers  also 
every  thing  of  his  outward  waking,  and  knows  even 
the  place  where  he,  waking,  laid  his  pen. 

“The  sick  knows  very  well  that  she  now  appears  to 
thee  perfect ;  but  in  fact  the  powers  of  her  mind  and 
soul  are  not  more  exalted  or  commanding  than  formerly, 
though  less  bound  or  crippled  by  the  restraints  of  the 
outward  senses.  An  excellent  workman  works  with 


APPENDIX. 


406 

imperfect  tools  more  imperfectly  tnan  lie  should  do. 
Even  the  most  fluent  human  speech  is  tedious  and  diffi¬ 
cult,  since  it  neither  can  represent  all  the  peculiarities 
of  the  thoughts  and  feelings,  nor  the  rapid  changes  and 
course  of  the  ideas,  but  only  single  parts  of  the  onflow- 
ing  current  of  thought. 

“  In  the  purer  life,  although  the  tools  of  the  senses 
rest,  there  is  a  more  complete  and  exact  remembrance 
of  the  past,  than  in  the  earthly  waking.  Since  at  the 
earthly  waking,  the  all  streams  through  the  open  doors 
of  perception  too  powerful — almost  stunning.  There¬ 
fore,  Emanuel,  thou  knowest  when  we  wish,  during  our 
earthly  waking,  deeply  and  seriously  to  think,  we  seek 
solitude  and  quiet,  and  withdraw  ourselves,  as  it  were, 
from  without,  and  neither  see  nor  hear. 

“  The  more  the  mind  can  be  removed  from  outward 
life,  the  nearer  it  approaches  to  its  purer  state ;  the  more 
it  is  separated  from  the  activity  of  the  senses,  the  more 
clear  and  certain  it  thinks.  We  know  that  some  of  the 
most  remarkable  discoveries  have  been  made  in  the  state 
betwixt  sleeping  and  waking,  when  the  outward  doors 
were  half-closed,  and  spiritual  life  remained  undisturbed 
by  foreign  intermixture. 

“  Sleep  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  the  interruption  of 
the  perfect  conscious  life  ;  but  the  earthly  waking  is  to 
be  regarded  as  such  an  interruption,  cr  rather  as  a  lim¬ 
itation  of  it.  Since  by  earthly  waking  the  soul’s  ac¬ 
tivity  is  directed,  as  it  were,  to  fixed  paths  and  limits, 
and  on  the  other  side,  the  attractions  of  the  outer  world 
influence  it  so  powerfully,  that  the  remembrance  of  the 
pure  life  disappears ;  still  more  so,  since  on  the  earthly 
tvaking  the  attention  of  the  spirit  itself  is  distracted, 


APPENDIX. 


407 


and  is  attracted  to  the  guarding  of  the  body  in  all  its 
single  parts.  Yes,  Emanuel,  sleep  is  probably  the  full 
awaking  of  the  spirit ;  the  earthly  waking,  as  it  were, 
a  slumber  or  stunning  of  the  spirit.  The  earthly  sleep 
is  a  spiritual  sunset  for  the  outer  world,  but  a  clear  sun 
rise  in  the  inner  world. 

“  Y et,  even  amid  the  distractions  of  the  earthly  wak¬ 
ing,  we  perceive,  occasionally,  glimpses  of  another  life 
we  have  passed  through,  though  we  do  not  always  know 
how  to  express  it.  So  one  sees  from  high  mountains,  on 
a  summer  night,  the  late  or  early  red  of  a  sun,  and  of 
a  day  that  has  departed,  which  is  the  portion  of  other 
countries  on  the  globe.  Often  with  wonderful  quick¬ 
ness,  in  extraordinary  accidents,  thoughts  and  resolu¬ 
tions  occur  to  men  necessary  to  their  safety,  without 
foregone  considerations — without  reflection.  We  know 
not  from  whence  they  spring.  Connection  fails  between 
our  previous  ideas  and  this  sudden  and  commanding 
one.  Men  usually  say  it  is  as  if  a  good  spirit,  or  a 
divinity,  had  inspired  me  with  the  thought.  At  other 
times,  we  see  and  hear  in  our  daily  life  something  that 
we  seem  already  to  have  seen  or  heard ;  and  yet  we  can 
not  fathom  how,  or  when,  or  where,  and  we  imagine  it 
to  be  a  singular  repetition,  or  some  resemblance  to  a 
dream. 

“  It  is  not  extraordinary,  Emanuel,  that  our  conscious 
being  never  ends ;  that  is,  that  whether  sleeping  or 
waking,  it  ever  advances;  since  it  is  so,  how  can  it 
cease  ?  But  wonderful  is  the  change — the  ebb  and  flow 
— the  hither  and  thither  turning  of  life  from  the  inner 
to  the  outward,  and  from  the  outward  to  the  inner. 

u  The  spirit,  clothed  by  the  soul,  as  the  sun  is  by  its 


iOS 


APPENDIX. 


rays,  flying  through  the  firmament  of  the  world,  can 
exist  as  well  without  a  body,  as  the  sun  without  foreign 
worlds.  But  the  worlds  without  the  sun  are  dead — ■ 
loosened  from  their  path  ;  the  body  without  the  soul  is 
dust. 

“The  body  has  its  own  life,  as  every  plant  lives; 
though  the  earthly  powers  of  lift  must  first  be  awakened 
through  the  spirit.  These  rule  and  move  themselves 
according  to  their  own  laws,  independent  of  the  soul. 
Without  our  will  and  knowledge,  without  the  will 
and  knowledge  of  the  body,  it  grows,  digests  its  nourish¬ 
ment,  makes  the  blood  flow,  and  changes  in  manifold 
ways  its  inheritance.  It  inhales  and  exhales;  it  evapo¬ 
rates  and  draws  invisible  nourishment  for  its  wants  from 
the  atmosphere.  But,  like  other  plants,  it  is  dependent 
upon  the  outward  things,  by  which  it  nourishes  itself. 
Its  condition  changes  with  night  and  day,  like  the  con¬ 
dition  of  every  flower;  it  raises  or  relaxes  itself;  its 
powers  of  life  consume  themselves  like  an  invisible  tire, 
which  demands  fresh  nourishment. 

“  Only  by  a  sufficient  supply  of  the  vegetable  powers 
of  life,  is  the  body  fitted  for  the  soul  to  enter  into  a 
close  union  with  it,  otherwise  it  is  a  heterogeneous 
substance.  If  its  powers  become  too  much  consumed  or 
exhausted,  the  spiritual  life  draws  itself  back  from  the 
outward  to  the  interior  part ;  that  we  call  sleep — an 
interruption  of  the  activity  of  the  senses.  The  soul 
returns  again  into  union  with  the  outer  parts,  so  soon  as 
the  vegetative  department  has  recruited  its  powers.  It 
is  not  the  soul  which  becomes  fatigued  or  exhausted, 
but  the  body ;  the  soul  is  not  strengthened  by  rest,  but 
the  body.  So  there  is  a  constant  ebb  and  flood,  an  out- 


APPENDIX. 


40f> 


streaming  and  retreating  of  the  spiritual  essence  in  us, 
perhaps  conformable  to  the  changes  of  day  and  night. 

“  The  greater  part  of  our  existence  we  watch  out¬ 
wardly;  we  should  do  so,  since  the  body  was  given  to 
us  on  earth,  on  condition  of  our  activity.  The  body 
and  its  inclinations  give  our  activity  a  determined  direc¬ 
tion.  There  is  something  great  and  wonderful  in  this 
economy  of  God. 

“  With  age  the  body  loses  the  faculty  of  re-establish¬ 
ing  its  powers  of  life  in  a  sufficient  degree  to  sustain  in 
all  its  parts  its  intimate  union  with  the  soul.  The 
instrument,  formerly  ductile  and  supple,  stiffens  and 
becomes  useless  to  the  spirit.  The  soul  withdraws  itself 
again  into  the  interior.  To  the  spirit  remains  all  its 
inward  activity,  even  till  all  union  with  the  body  is 
impeded ;  this  arrives  only  through  the  destroying 
power  of  age  or  sickness.  The  loosening  of  the  soul 
from  the  body  is  the  restoration  of  the  first.  It  fre¬ 
quently  announces  itself  by  predictions  at  the  hour  of 
death  and  other  prophecies. 

“  The  more  healthy  the  body,  so  much  the  more  is  the 
soul  entirely  united  with  all  parts  of  the  body  ;  and  the 
more  closely  it  is  bound  to  it,  so  much  the  less  capable 
it  is  of  predicting ;  it  is  then,  as  if  the  soul,  in  extraor¬ 
dinary  moments  of  enthusiasm,  unshackled,  as  it  were, 
sees  into  futurity. 

“  The  retreat  of  the  soul  fiom  the  outer  world,  pro¬ 
duces  a  peculiar  state  of  the  human  substance.  It  is 
the  dream.  To  fall  into  a  slumber,  produces  the  last 
attraction  of  the  senses,  and  the  first  activity  of  the  free 
interior  life.  By  the  waking,  the  last  ray  of  the  inner 
world  mixes  itself  with  the  first  light  of  the  outward 
18 


APPENDIX. 


-i  10 

world.  It  is  difficult  to  disentangle  what  particularly 
appertains  to  the  one  or  the  other  ;  but  it  is  always  in¬ 
structive  to  observe  dreams.  Since  the  spirit,  even 
in  its  inner  activity,  occupies  itself  with  that  which 
attracted  it  in  the  outward  life,  one  can  expound  the 
movements  of  the  sleep-walker.  Though,  when  the 
outward  senses  of  the  sleep-walker  are  again  unlocked, 
he  can  remember  nothing  of  what  he  did  during  his 
extraordinary  state,  yet  it  can  return  to  him  again  in 
dreams.  So  do  they  bring  from  the  inner  world  much 
knowledge  to  the  outer.  Dream  is  the  natural  mediator, 
the  bridge  between  the  outward  and  inner  life.” 


CHANGES. 

These  were  perhaps  the  most  remarkable  ideas  which 
she  uttered,  either  spontaneously  or  excited  by  ques¬ 
tions  ;  it  is  true,  not  in  the  order  in  which  they  are 
here  placed,  but  as  regards  the  expressions,  very  little 
different  from  them.  Much  that  she  said,  it  was  impos¬ 
sible  for  me  to  give  again,  since,  with  the  connection  of 
the  conversation,  it  lost  much  of  the  delicacy  of  its 
meaning ;  much  remained  wholly  unintelligible  to  me. 

It  was  also  my  fault  that  I  neglected  leading  her 
back  at  the  right  time  upon  many  things  that  remained 
obscure  to  me.  I  soon  remarked,  that  she  did  not  in 
all  her  hours  of  transfiguration  discern  and  speak  with 
equal  clearness — that  she  gradually  liked  less  to  converse 
on  these  subjects,  and  at  last  discontinued  them  entire¬ 
ly,  and  spoke  almost  only  of  household  affairs  or  the 


APPKNDIX. 


411 


state  of  her  health.  This  she  constantly  affirmed  was 
improving,  though  for  a  long  time  we  could  perceive  np 
traces  of  it.  She  continued,  as  formerly,  to  indicate  to 
us  what  she  must  eat  and  drink  when  awake,  and  what 
would  be  beneficial  and  what  prejudicial  to  her.  She 
showed  an  aversion  to  almost  all  drugs,  but,  on  the 
contrary,  desired  daily  an  ice-cold  bath,  and,  at  last, 
sea-water  baths.  As  the  spring  approached,  her  trans¬ 
figurations  became  shorter. 

I  will  by  no  means  describe  here  the  history  of  Ilor- 
tensia’s  illness,  but  will  in  a  few  words  state,  that  in 
seven  months  after  my  arrival  she  was  so  far  restored, 
that  she  could  not  only  receive  the  visits  of  strangers, 
but  also  return  them,  and  could  even  go  to  church, 
theater,  and  balls,  though  only  for  a  few  hours  at  a  time. 
The  count  was  beside  himself  with  joy.  He  loaded  his 
daughter  with  presents,  and  formed  around  her  a  vari¬ 
ous  and  costly  circle  of  amusements.  Connected  with 
the  first  houses  of  Venice,  or  courted  by  them,  either 
on  account  of  his  wealth  or  the  beauty  of  his  daughter, 
it  could  not  fail  that  every  day  in  the  week  was  meta¬ 
morphosed  into  a  festival. 

He  had  hitherto  in  fact,  lived  like  a  hermit,  depressed 
by  Hortensia’s  misfortune,  and  kept  in  a  constantly 
constrained  and  anxious  state  by  the  miracles  connected 
with  her  illness.  Therefore,  he  had  become  confined 
to  an  intercourse  with  me.  Besides,  from  want  of 
firmness  of  mind,  and  through  my  influence  over  Ilor- 
tensia’s  life,  and  by  a  kind  of  superstitious  respect  for 
my  person,  he  allowed  himself  to  be  willingly  pleased 
with  what  I  directed.  He  yielded  to  me,  if  I  may  so 
call  it,  a  kind  cf  government  over  himself,  and  obeyed 


112 


APPENDIX. 


my  wishes  with  a  degree  of  submission  which  was 
unpleasant  to  myself,  though  I  never  abused  it. 

Now  that  Ilortensia’s  recovery  restored  to  him  a  mind 
free  from  care,  and  the  long-denied  enjoyment  of 
brilliant  pleasures,  his  deportment  toward  me  changed. 
It  is  true,  I  continued  to  hold  the  direction  over  his 
house  and  family  affairs,  which  he  had  formerly  given 
up  to  me,  either  from  blind  confidence  or  for  his  con¬ 
venience,  but  he  wished  that  I  should  conduct  his  affairs 
under  some  name  in  his  service.  As  I  firmly  refused 
to  place  myself  in  his  pay,  and  remained  true  to  the 
conditions  under  which  I  had  first  engaged  with  him, 
he  appeared  to  make  a  virtue  of  necessity.  He  intro¬ 
duced  me  to  the  Venetians  as  his  friend  ;  yet  his  pride 
not  permitting  his  friend  to  be  a  mere  citizen,  he  gave 
me  out  generally  as  being  from  one  of  the  purest  and 
best  of  the  German  noble  families.  I  opposed  at  first 
this  falsehood,  but  was  obliged  to  yield  to  the  entreaties 
of  his  weakness.  Thus  I  entered  into  the  Venetian 
circles,  and  was  received  everywhere.  It  is  true,  the 
count  continued  to  be  my  friend,  though  not  entirely  as 
formerly,  since  I  was  no  longer  his  only  one.  We  no 
longer,  as  before,  lived  exclusively  for  and  with  one  an¬ 
other. 

Yet  more  remarkable  was  the  metamorphose  in 
Hortensia  on  her  convalescence.  In  her  transfigura¬ 
tions,  she  was,  as  ever,  all  goodness ;  but  the  old  hate 
and  aversion,  during  the  remaining  part  of  the  day, 
appeared  gradually  to  disappear.  Either  more  obedient 
to  the  admonitions  of  her  father,  or  from  her  own  feel¬ 
ings  of  gratitude,  she  controlled  herself  so  as  not  to 
wound  me,  either  by  word  or  look.  It  was  permitted 


APPENDIX. 


41  a 

me,  from  time  to  time,  though  only  for  a  few  moments, 
to  pay  my  most  respectful  homage  to  her,  as  a  guest  of 
the  house,  as  a  friend  of  the  count,  and  as  an  actual 
physician. 

I  could  even  at  last,  without  danger  of  exciting  an 
outbreak  of  her  anger,  be  in  the  society  -where  she  was. 
Indeed,  this  effort  or  habit  proceeded  so  far  that  she 
could  at  last,  with  indifference,  suffer  me  to  dine  at  table, 
when  the  count  was  alone  or  had  guests.  But  even 
then  I  always  saw  her  pride  through  her  manners,  as 
she  looked  down  upon  me,  and  except  what  decency  and 
common  politeness  demanded,  I  never  received  a  single 
word  from  her. 

For  myself,  my  life  was  truly  only  half  gay,  though 
from  rr.y  greater  freedom  I  felt  more  comfortable.  The 
amusements  into  which  I  was  drawn  diverted  me,  with¬ 
out  increasing  my  contentment.  In  the  midst  of  bustle, 
I  often  longed  for  solitude,  which  was  more  congenial  to 
my  nature.  It  was  my  invariable  determination,  so 
soon  as  the  cure  of  the  countess  was  perfected,  to  regain 
my  former  liberty.  I  longed  with  eagerness  the  arrival 
of  that  moment,  since  I  felt  too  deeply  that  the  passion 
with  which  Ilortensia’s  beauty  inspired  me  would  become 
my  misfortune.  I  had  struggled  against  it,  and  Ilorten¬ 
sia’s  pride  and  hatred  for  me  rendered  the  struggle  more 
easy.  To  her  feelings  of  high  noble  birth,  I  opposed 
my  citizen  feelings — to  her  malicious  persecutions,  the 
consciousness  of  my  innocence  and  her  ingratitude.  If 
there  were  moments  when  the  charms  of  her  person 
affected  me — who  could  remain  insensible  to  so  many? 
— there  were  many  more  in  which  her  offensive  behavior 
entirely  disgusted  me,  and  caused  my  heart  a  bitterness 


APPENDIX. 


414 

which  bordered  on  aversion.  Her  indifference  toward 
me  was  as  strong  a  proof  of  the  want  of  grateful  feel¬ 
ings  in  her  disposition,  as  her  former  aversion.  At  last 
I  avoided  Hortensia  more  assiduously  than  she  did  me. 
Could  she  have  regarded  me  with  indifference,  she 
must  have  discovered  in  my  whole  behavior  how  great 
was  my  scorn  of  her. 

Thus,  during  Ilortensia’s  gradual  recovery,  had  the 
situations  between  us  all,  unremarked  and  singularly 
enough,  wholly  changed.  I  had  no  ardent  wish,  except 
soon  to  be  freed  from  an  engagement  which  gave  me 
but  little  joy,  and  no  greater  consolation  than  the 
moment  when  Hortensia’s  perfect  health  would  render 
my  presence  unnecessary. 


PKINCE  CHARLES. 

Among  those  who  in  Venice  connected  themselves 
most  intimately  with  us,  was  a  rich  young  man,  who, 
descended  from  one  of  the  noblest  Italian  families,  bore 
the  title  of  prince.  I  shall  call  him  Charles.  lie  was 
of  a  pleasing  figure,  with  fine  manners,  intellectual, 
quick,  and  prepossessing.  The  nobility  of  his  features, 
as  well  as  the  fiery  glance  of  his  eye,  betrayed  an  irri¬ 
table  temperament.  He  lived  at  an  immense  expense, 
and  was  more  vain  than  proud.  He  served  for  some 
time  in  the  French  army.  Tired  of  that,  he  was  upon 
the  point  of  visiting  the  most  distinguished  European 
cities  and  courts.  The  accidental  acquaintance  which 
he  made  with  Count  Hormegg  detained  him  longer  in 


APPENDIX. 


415 


Venice  than  he  at  first  intended  ;  for  he  had  seen  Hor- 
teusia,  and  joined  himself  to  her  crowd  of  admirers. 
In  pursuit  of  her,  he  soon  appeared  to  forget  every  thing 
else.  His  rank,  his  fortune,  his  numerous  and  brilliant 
retinue,  and  his  pleasing  exterior,  flattered  Hortensia’s 
pride  and  self-love.  Without  distinguishing  him  from 
the  others  by  any  particular  favor,  she  yet  liked  to  see 
him  near  her.  A  single  confidential,  friendly  look  was 
sutficient  to  excite  in  him  the  boldest  hopes. 

The  old  Count  Ilormegg,  no  less  flattered  by  the 
prince’s  addresses,  met  them  half-way,  showed  him  a 
preference  over  all,  and  soon  changed  a  mere  acquaint¬ 
ance  into  a  close  intimacy.  I  doubted  not  for  a  moment 
that  the  count  had  secretly  chosen  the  prince  for  his 
son-in-law.  Nothing  but  Hortensia’s  indisposition,  and 
a  fear  of  her  humors,  appeared  to  prevent  both  the 
father  and  lover  from  more  open  approaches. 

The  prince  had  heard,  in  conversations  with  the  count, 
of  Hortensia’s  transfigurations.  He  burnt  with  a  desire 
to  see  her  in  this  extraordinary  state  ;  and  the  countess, 
who  well  knew  that  this  state  was  far  from  being  dis¬ 
advantageous  to  her,  gave  him,  what  she  had  hitherto 
denied  to  every  stranger,  permission  to  be  present  at 
one  <?f  them. 

He  came  one  afternoon,  when  we  knew  Hortensia 
would  sink  into  this  remarkable  sleep,  as  she  always 
announced  it  in  the  preceding  one.  I  can  not  deny 
that  I  felt  a  touch  of  jealousy  as  the  prince  entered  the 
room.  Hitherto,  I  had  been  the  happy  one  to  whom 
the  countess,  by  preference  in  her  miraculous  glorifica¬ 
tions,  had  turned  her  exterior  graces  and  intelle<  tual 
beauty. 


416 


APPENDIX. 


Charles  approached  lightly  over  the  soft  carpet,  mov¬ 
ing  on  tiptoe.  He  believed  that  she  really  slumbered, 
as  her  eyes  were  closed.  Timidity  and  delight  were  ex¬ 
pressed  in  his  features  as  he  gazed  on  the  charming 
figure,  which,  in  her  whole  appearance,  discovered 
something  extraordinary. 

Hortensia  at  length  began  to  speak.  She  conversed 
with  me  in  her  usual  affectionate  manner.  I  was 
again,  as  ever,  her  Emanuel,  Avho  governed  her  thoughts, 
will,  and  whole  being;  a  language  which  sounded  very 
unpleasing  to  the  prince,  and  which,  to  me,  was  never 
very  flattering.  Hortensia,  however,  began  to  appeal 
more  restless  and  anxious.  She  asserted,  several  times 
that  she  felt  pains,  though  she  could  not  tell  wherefore. 
I  motioned  to  the  prince  that  he  should  reach  me  his 
hand.  Scarcely  had  he  done  so  than  Hortensia, 
shuddering  violently,  cried  out  gloomily,  “  How  cold  ! 
Away  with  that  goat  there  !  He  kills  me  !”  She  was 
seized  with  convulsions,  which  she  had  not  had  for 
a  long  time.  Charles  was  obliged  instantly  to  leave  the 
room.  He  was  quite  beside  himself  with  terror.  After 
some  time  Hortensia  recovered  from  her  cramps. 
“  Never  bring  that  impure  creature  to  me  again,”  said 
she. 

This  accident,  which  even  alarmed  me,  produced  un¬ 
pleasant  consequences.  The  prince  regarded  me  from 
this  moment  as  his  rival,  and  conceived  a  great  hatred 
toward  me.  The  count,  who  allowed  himself  to  be 
entirely  governed  by  him,  appeared  to  become  suspi¬ 
cious  of  Hortensia’s  feelings.  The  mere  thought  that 
the  countess  might  acquire  an  inclination  for  me,  was 
insupportable  to  his  pride.  I’oth  the  prince  and  count 


APPENDIX. 


417 


united  themselves  firmly  together  ;  kept  me  at  a  greater 
distance  from  the  countess,  except  during  the  time  of 
her  miraculous  sleeps ;  agreed  upon  the  marriage,  and 
the  count  opened  the  wishes  of  the  prince  to  his 
daughter.  She,  although  flattered  by  the  attentions  of 
the  prince,  demanded  permission  to  reserve  her  declara¬ 
tion  till  the  complete  restoration  of  her  health.  Charles, 
in  the  mean  while,  was  generally  regarded  as  the  be¬ 
trothed  of  the  countess.  lie  was  her  constant  attend¬ 
ant,  and  she  the  queen  of  all  his  fetes. 

I  very  soon  discovered  that  I  began  to  be  in  the  way 
— that  with  Ilortensia’s  recovery  I  had  sunk  into  my 
original  nothingness.  My  former  discontent  returned, 
and  nothing  made  my  situation  supportable  but  that  Hor- 
tensia,  not  only  in  her  transfigurations,  but  soon  out  of 
them,  did  me  justice.  Not  only  was  her  old  aversion  to¬ 
ward  me  changed  into  indifference,  but  in  the  same  pro¬ 
portion  as  her  bodily  health  rebloomed,  this  indifference 
changed  into  an  attentive,  forbearing  respect ;  to  an  affa¬ 
ble  friendliness,  such  as  one  is  accustomed  to  from  the 
higher  to  the  lower,  or  toward  persons  whom  one  sees 
daily,  who  belong  to  the  household,  and  to  whom  one 
feels  indebted  for  the  services  they  perform.  She  treated 
me  as  if  I  were  really  her  physician — liked  to  ask  my  ad¬ 
vice,  my  permission,  when  it  concerned  any  enjoyment 
or  pleasure  ;  fulfilled  punctually  my  directions,  and  could 
command  herself  to  leave  the  dance  so  soon  as  the  hour 
was  passed  which  I  had  fixed  for  her.  It  occurred  to 
me,  sometimes,  as  if  the  authority  of  my  will  had  in 
part  passed  over  to  her  waking,  since  it  began  to  act 
more  weakly  over  her  soul  during  her  transfigurations. 

18* 


418 


APPENDIX. 


THE  DREAMS. 

Hortensia’s  pride,  obstinacy,  and  humor  also  passed 
gradually  away  from  her  like  bad  spirits.  In  her  dis¬ 
position,  almost  as  lovely  as  during  her  trance,  she  en¬ 
chained  not  less  by  her  outward  charms  than  by  her 
affection,  humility,  and  grateful  kindness. 

All  this  made  my  misfortune.  How  could  I,  a  daily 
witness  of  so  many  perfections,  remain  indifferent  ?  I 
wished  most  earnestly  that  she  might,  as  formerly, 
despise,  offend,  and  persecute  me,  that  I  might  the 
more  easily  separate  from  her,  and  could  be  able  to 
despise  her  in  return.  But  that  was  now  impossible.  I 
again  adored  her.  Silently  and  without  hope,  I  pined 
away  in  my  passion.  I  knew,  by  anticipation,  that  my 
future  separation  from  her  would  take  me  to  the  grave. 
What  made  my  situation  worse,  was  a  dream,  which 
I  from  time  to  time  had  of  her,  and  always  in  the  same 
or  similar  form.  Sometimes  I  was  sitting  in  a  strange 
room — sometimes  on  the  sea-shore — sometimes  in  a  cave 
under  over-hanging  rocks — sometimes  on  the  moss-cov¬ 
ered  trunk  of  an  oak,  in  a  great  solitude,  and  with  a 
deeply  agitated  soul ;  then  came  Hortensia,  and  looking 
upon  me  with  the  kindest  compassion,  said,  “  Where¬ 
fore  so  melancholy,  dear  Faust?”  and  thereupon  each 
time  I  awoke,  and  the  tone  in  which  she  spoke  thrilled 
through  me.  This  tone  was  echoed  to  me  the  whole 
day.  I  heard  it  in  the  bustle  of  the  city,  the  crowd  of 
company,  in  the  song  of  the  gondoliers,  at  the  opera, 
everywhere.  Some  nights  when  I  had  this  dream,  I 
waked  as  soon  as  Hortensia  had  opened  her  mouth  to 


APPENDIX. 


410 


make  the  usual  question,  and  then  imagined  that  1 
actually  heard  the  voice  without  me. 

Dreams  formerly  in  the  world  used  to  be  dreams  ;  but 
in  the  strange  circle  into  which  I  was  placed  by  my 
destiny,  even  dreams  had  an  unusual  character. 

1  was  one  day  regulating  some  accounts  in  the  count’s 
room,  and  had  laid  some  letters  before  him  for  his  sig¬ 
nature.  He  was  called  to  receive  some  of  the  Venetian 
nobility,  who  had  come  to  visit  him.  Believing  he 
would  soon  return,  I  threw  myself  upon  a  chair  at  the 
window,  and  sank  into  a  deep  melancholy.  Soon  I 
heard  footsteps,  and  the  countess,  who  sought  her  father, 
stood  near  me.  1  was  much  startled,  without  knowing 
wherefore,  and  respectfully  arose. 

“  Why  so  sad,  dear  Faust  ?”  said  Hortensia,  with  her 
own  peculiar  loveliness,  spiritualizing  my  whole  being, 
and  with  the  same  voice,  whose  tones  sounded  so  mov¬ 
ingly  in  my  dreams.  She  then  laughed,  as  if  surprised 
at  her  own  question,  or  as  astonished  at  herself;  rubbed 
thoughtfully  her  brow,  and  said,  after  a  while,  “What 
is  this  ?  I  fancy  that  it  has  occurred  before.  It  is 
extraordinary.  I  have  once  before  found  you  exactly 
as  at  this  moment,  and  even  so  questioned  you.  Is  not 
this  singular  ?” 

“  Not  more  singular  than  I  have  experienced,”  said 
I,  “  since  not  once,  but  many  times,  have  I  dreamt  that 
you  discovered  me,  and  asked  in  the  same  words  the 
same  questions  which  you  have  now  had  the  goodness 
to  do.” 

The  count  came  in  and  interrupted  our  short  conver¬ 
sation.  But  this,  apparently  in  itself  unimportant  inci¬ 
dent,  caused  me  much  reflection:  nevertheless,  my  re- 


420 


APPENDIX. 


searches  were  in  vain  to  divine  how  the  play  of  the 
imagination  could  mingle  with  the  reality.  She  had 
dreamt  the  same  as  myself,  and  the  dream  had  been 
accomplished  in  life. 

These  enchantments  were  yet  far  from  being  at  an 
end. 

Five  days  after  this  event,  the  god  of  sleep  mimicked 
before  me  that  I  was  invited  to  a  great  assembly.  It 
was  a  great  fetes  dance.  The  music  made  me  melancholy, 
and  I  remained  a  solitary  spectator.  Hortensia  suddenly 
came  to  me  from  the  crowd  of  dancers,  pressed  secretly 
and  fervently  my  hand,  and  whispered,  “  Be  gay,  Faust, 
or  else  I  can  not  be  so !”  She  then  gave  me  a  look  of 
compassionate  tenderness,  and  was  again  lost  in  the 
tumult. 

The  Count  Hormegg  attended  a  pleasure  party  on 
that  day,  at  the  country-seat  of  a  Venetian.  I  accom¬ 
panied  him.  On  the  way  he  told  me  that  the  countess 
would  also  be  there.  When  we  arrived,  we  found  a 
large  company — in  the  evening  there  were  magnificent 
firewotks,  and  then  dancing.  The  prince  opened  the 
ball  with  Hortensia  ;  it  was  like  the  stroke  of  a  dagger 
to  me,  as  I  looked  at  them.  I  lost  all  inclination  to  par¬ 
ticipate  in  the  ball.  In  order  to  forget  myself,  I  chose 
a  partner,  and  mixed  with  the  floating  beautiful  troop. 
But  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  had  lead  fastened  to  my 
feet,  and  I  congratulated  myself  when  I  was  able  to 
slip  out  from  the  crowd.  Leaning  at  a  door,  I  gazed 
on  the  dancers,  not  at  them,  but  only  at  Hortensia, 
who  moved  there  like  a  goddess. 

I  thought  of  the  dream  of  the  past  night;  in  the 
same  moment  a  dance  broke  up,  and,  glowing  ivitb  joy, 


APPENDIX. 


421 


yet  timidly,  Hortensia  approached  me,  pressed  secretly 
and  lightly  my  hand,  and  whispered,  “Dear  Faust,  be 
gay,  that  I  also  may  be  so  !”  She  spoke  this  so  com¬ 
passionately,  so  kindly — with  a  look  from  her  eyes— a 
look— I  lost  sense  and  speech.  When  I  recovered  my¬ 
self,  Hortensia  had  again  disappeared.  She  swept 
again  in  the  train  of  dancers,  but  her  eyes  constantly 
sought  only  me;  her  looks  constantly  hung  on  me.  It 
was  as  if  she  had  the  humor,  by  her  attention,  to 
deprive  me  of  the  residue  of  my  reason.  The  couples 
separated  at  the  end  of  the  dance,  and  I  left  my  place 
with  the  view  of  seeking  another  situation  in  the  room, 
to  convince  myself  whether  I  had  been  deceived,  and 
whether  the  looks  of  the  countess  would  seek  me  there. 

Already  fresh  couples  assembled  for  a  new  dance,  as 
I  wandered  over  to  the  seats  of  the  ladies.  One  of 
them  arose  at  the  moment  that  I  approached  her — it 
was  the  countess.  Her  arm  was  in  mine — we  joined 
the  circle.  I  trembled  and  knew  not  how  it  had  oc¬ 
curred,  since  I  never  could  have  had  the  boldness  to 
ask  Hortensia  to  dance,  and  yet,  it  appeared  to  me  as 
if  I  had  done  so  in  my  absence  of  mind.  She  was  un¬ 
embarrassed — scarcely  observed  my  confusion — and 
her  brilliant  glances  roved  over  the  splendid  crowd. 
One  moment  and  the  music  began.  I  seemed  to  be 
unbound  from  all  that  was  earthly !  spiritualized  I 
swept  on  the  waves  of  sound.  I  knew  not  what  was 
passing  around  me — knew  not  that  we  chained  the 
attention  of  all  the  spectators. 

What  regarded  I  the  admiration  of  the  world?  At 
the  end  of  the  third  dance  I  led  the  countess  to  a  seat, 
that  she  might  rest  herself.  Whisperingly  I  stammered 


4-22 


APPENDIX. 


my  thanks — she  bowed,  with  mere  friendly  politeness, 
as  to  the  greatest  stranger,  and  I  drew  back  among  the 
spectators. 

The  prince,  as  well  as  the  count,  had  seen  me  dan¬ 
cing  with  Hortensia,  and  had  heard  the  general  whisper 
of  applause.  The  prince  burnt  with  jealousy — he  did 
not  even  conceal  it  from  Hortensia.  The  count  was, 
offended  at  my  boldness  in  asking  his  daughter  to 
dance,  and  reproached  her  the  next  day  for  so  thought¬ 
lessly  forgetting  her  rank.  Both  maintained,  like  all 
the  world,  that  her  dancing  had  been  more  full  of  soul, 
more  impassioned.  JST either  the  count  nor  the  prince 
doubted  but  that  I  had  inspired  the  countess  with  an 
unworthy  inclination  for  myself.  I  soon  perceived, 
notwithstanding  their  efforts  to  conceal  it,  that  I  was 
an  object  of  hate  and  fear  to  them  both.  I  was  very 
seldom,  and  at  last  not  at  all,  taken  into  the  society  where 
Hortensia  moved.  I  was,  however,  silent. 

Both  gentlemen  indulged,  nevertheless,  too  much 
anxiety  on  this  account.  The  countess,  certainly,  did 
not  deny  that  she  felt  a  sense  of  gratitude  toward  me, 
but  any  other  feeling  was  a  reproach,  at  which  she 
revolted.  She  confessed  that  she  esteemed  me,  but 
that  it  was  all  the  same  to  her  whether  I  danced  in 
Venice  or  Constantinople. 

“You  are  at  liberty  to  dismiss  him,”  said  she  to  her 
father,  “  so  soon  as  my  cure  is  perfected.” 


THE  AMULET. 

The  count  and  Charles  awaited  this  moment  in  pain, 
to  get  rid  of  me,  and  to  bring  on  the  marriage  of 


APPENDIX. 


423 


Hortensia.  Ilortensia  looked  for  it  with  impatience, 
in  order  to  rejoice  over  her  own  recovery,  and  at  the 
same  time  to  quiet  the  suspicions  of  her  father.  I  also 
expected  it  with  no  less  desire.  It  was  only  far  from 
Hortensia,  and  amid  new  scenes  and  other  occupations, 
that  I  could  hope  to  heal  my  mind.  I  felt  myself 
unhappy. 

The  countess  one  day  announced,  not  unexpectedly, 
as  she  lay  in  her  strange  sleep,  the  near  approach  of 
her  re-establishment. 

In  the  warm  baths  of  Battaglia,”  said  she,  “  she 
will  entirely  lose  the  gift  of  being  entranced.  Take 
her  there.  Her  cure  is  no  longer  distant.  Everj 
morning,  immediately  on  waking,  one  bath.  After  the 
tenth,  Emanuel,  she  separates  from  thee.  She  sees 
thee  never  again,  if  such  is  thy  will ;  but  leave  her  a 
token  of  thy  remembrance.  She  can  not  be  healthy 
without  it.  For  a  long  time,  thou  wearest  in  thy 
breast  a  dried  rose,  between  glasses,  and  set  in  gold. 
So  long  as  she  wears  this,  inclosed  in  silk,  immediately 
about  the  region  of  the  heart,  she  will  not  again  fall 
into  her  cramps.  Neither  later  nor  earlier  than  the 
seventh  hour  after  receiving  the  thirteenth  bath,  yield 
it  to  her.  Wear  it  constantly  till  then.  She  is  then 
healthy.” 

She  repeated  this  desire  frequently,  and  with  singu¬ 
lar  anxiety ;  she  laid  particular  stress  upon  the  hour 
when  I  should  deliver  up  to  her  my  only  jewel,  and  of 
whose  existence  she  had  never  heard. 

“  Do  you  really  wear  any  such  thing  ?”  asked  the 
count,  astonished,  and  highly  delighted  on  account  of 
the  announced  restoration  of  health  to  his  daughter. 


APPENDIX. 


424 

As  I  answered,  he  asked  further,  if  I  laid  any  particu¬ 
lar  value  upon  the  possession  of  this  trifle.  I  assured 
him  the  highest ;  that  I  would  rather  die  than  to  have 
it  taken  from  me— nevertheless,  for  the  safety  of  the 
countess,  I  would  sacrifice  it. 

“  Probably  a  remembrance  from  some  beloved 
hand  ?”  observed  the  count,  laughing,  and,  in  an  inquir¬ 
ing  manner,  to  whom  it  seemed  a  good  opportunity  to 
learn  whether  my  heart  had  already  been  bestowed. 

“  It  comes,”  I  replied,  “  from  a  person  who  is  every 
thing  to  me.” 

The  count  was  as  much  moved  by  my  generosity  as 
contented  that  I  had  resolved  to  make  the  sacrifice  on 
which  Hortensia’s  continued  health  depended,  and, 
forgetting  his  secret  grudge,  embraced  me, — a  circum¬ 
stance  which  had  not  happened  for  a  long  time. 

“  You  make  me  your  greatest  debtor ,”  said  he. 

He  was  most  urgent  to  relate  to  Hortensia,  as  soon 
as  I  had  gone,  on  her  waking,  what  she  desired  in  her 
trance;  he,  moreover,  did  not  conceal  from  her  his 
conversation  with  me  on  the  subject  of  the  amulet, 
which  had  so  great  a  value  for  me,  since  it  was  the 
remembrance  of  a  person  that  I  loved  above  all.  He 
laid  great  stress  on  this,  as  his  suspicion  still  remained, 
and,  in  case  Hortensia  really  felt  any  inclination  for 
me,  to  destroy  it,  by  the  discovery  that  I,  since  a  long 
time,  had  sighed  in  the  chains  of  another  beauty. 
Hortensia  listened  to  it  all  with  such  innocent  unem¬ 
barrassment,  and  so  sincerely  congratulated  herself 
upon  her  early  recovery,  that  the  count  perceived  he 
had  done  injustice  to  the  heart  of  his  daughter  by  his 
suspicions.  In  the  joy  of  his  heart  he  was  eager  to 


APPENDIX. 


425 


confess  to  me  his  conversation  with  his  daughter,  and 
immediately  to  mention  to  the  prince  all  that  had 
passed.  From  that  hour,  I  remarked,  both  in  tho 
manner  of  the  count  and  prince  something  uncon¬ 
strained,  kind,  and  obliging.  They  kept  me  no  longer, 
with  their  former  anxiety,  at  a  distance  from  Horten- 
sia ;  but  treated  me  with  the  attention  and  forbearance 
due  to  a  benefactor,  to  whom  they  were  indebted  for  the 
happiness  of  their  whole  life.  Arrangements  were  im¬ 
mediately  made  for  our  journey  to  the  baths  of  Battag¬ 
lia.  We  left  Venice  on  a  beautiful  summer  morning. 
The  prince  had  gone  before,  in  order  to  prepare  every 
thing  for  his  intended  bride. 

Thi-ough  the  pleasant  plains  of  Padua  we  approached 
the  mountains,  at  the  foot  of  which  lay  the  healing 
spring.  On  the  way  the  countess  often  liked  to  walk  ; 
then  I  must  always  be  her  conductor.  Her  cordiality 
charmed  as  much  as  her  tender  sense  of  the  noble  ii 
the  human  character,  and  of  the  beautiful  in  nature 
“I  could  be  very  happy,”  she  often  said,  “if  I  coulc 
pass  my  days  in  any  one  of  these  beautiful  Italian 
regions,  amid  the  simple  occupations  of  domestic  life. 
The  amusements  of  the  city  leave  the  feelings  vacant — 
they  are  more  stunning  than  pleasing.  IIow  happy 
I  could  be  if  I  might  live  simply,  unprovoked  by  the 
miseries  of  the  palace,  where  one  vexes  one’s  self  about 
nothing;  sufficiently  rich  to  make  others  happy,  and  in 
my  own  creations  to  find  the  source  of  my  happiness  ! 
Yet  one  must  not  desire  every  thing.” 

More  than  once,  and  in  the  presence  of  her  father 
she  spoke  of  her  great  obligations  to  me,  as  the  pre¬ 
server  of  her  life.  “  If  I  only  knew  how  to  repay  it,” 


APPENDIX. 


426 


said  she.  “  I  have  for  a  long  time  racked  my  head  to  di& 
cover  something  right  pleasing  to  you.  You  must,  in¬ 
deed,  permit  my  father  to  place  you  in  a  situation  which 
will  enable  you  to  live  quite  independent  of  others. 
But  that  is  the  least.  I  need  for  myself  some  other  sat¬ 
isfaction.” 

At  other  times,  and  frequently,  she  brought  the  con¬ 
versation  to  my  resolution  of  leaving  them  as  soon  as 
she  recovered.  “  We  shall  be  sorry  to  lose  you,”  said 
she,  good-naturedly  :  “  we  shall  lament  your  loss,  as  the 
loss  of  a  true  friend  and  benefactor.  We  will  not,  how¬ 
ever,  by  our  entreaties  for  you  to  remain  with  us,  ren¬ 
der  your  resolution  more  difficult.  Your  heart  calls 
you  elsewhere,”  added  she,  with  an  arch  smile,  as  if  ini¬ 
tiated  in  the  secrets  of  my  breast.  “  If  you  are  happy, 
there  is  nothing  else  for  you  to  wish  for  ;  and  I  do  not 
doubt  that  love  will  make  you  happy.  Do  not,  how¬ 
ever,  therefore  forget  us,  but  send  us  news  from  time  to 
time  of  your  health.” 

What  I  felt  at  such  expressions,  could  be  as  little 
uttered  as  that  I  should  repeat  what  I  was  usually  in 
the  habit  of  replying.  My  answers  were  full  of  acknowl¬ 
edgments  and  cold  politeness ;  for  respect  forbade  my 
betraying  my  heart.  Nevertheless,  there  were  moments 
when  the  strength  of  my  feelings  mastered  me,  and  I 
said  more  than  I  wished.  When  I  said  something  more 
than  mere  flattery,  Hortensia  looked  at  me  with  the 
clear  bright  look  of  innocence,  as  if  she  did  not  compre¬ 
hend  or  understand  me.  I  was  convinced  that  Horten- 
sia  felt  a  grateful  esteem  for  me,  and  wished  me  to  be 
happy  and  content,  without,  on  that  account,  giving  me 
a  secret  preference  over  any  other  mortal.  She  had 


APPENDIX. 


427 


joined  me  in  the  dance  at  the  bad,  from  mere  good 
nature,  and  to  give  me  pleasure.  She  herself  confessed, 
that  she  had  always  expected  me  to  ask  her.  Ah  !  how 
my  passion  had  created  presumptuous  hopes  from  it ! 
Presumptuous  hopes,  indeed  ;  since  had  llortensia,  in 
reality,  felt  more  than  mere  common  good-will  toward 
me,  of  what  service  would  it  have  been  to  me  ?  I  should 
only  have  become  more  miserable  by  her  partiality. 

While  the  flame  silently  devoured  me,  in  her  breast 
was  a  pure  heaven,  full  of  repose.  While  I  could  have 
sunk  at  her  feet,  and  confessed  what  she  was  to  me,  she 
wandered  near  me  without  the  slightest  suspicion  of  my 
feelings,  and  endeavored  to  dissipate  my  seriousness  by 
pleasantry. 


THE  DISENCHANTMENT. 

By  the  arrangements  of  the  prince,  rooms  were  pro¬ 
vided  for  us  in  the  castle  of  the  Marquisa  d’Este.  This 
castle,  situated  on  a  hill  near  the  village,  offered,  with 
the  greatest  comfort,  the  most  lovely  distant  prospect 
and  rich  shaded  walks  in  the  neighborhood.  But 
we  were  obliged  to  resort  to  the  town  for  the  baths — 
therefore  a  house  was  arranged  in  that  place  for  the 
countess,  where  she  passed  the  mornings  as  long  as  she 
bathed. 

Her  trance  in  Battaglia,  after  the  first  bath,  was  very 
short  and  indistinct.  She  spoke  but  seldom,  did  not 
once  answer,  and  appeared  to  enjoy  quite  a  natural 
sleep.  She  spoke  after  the  seventh  bath,  a.\d  com¬ 
manded,  that  after  the  tenth  she  should  nc  longer 


APPENDIX. 


428 

remain  in  that  house.  It  is  true,  she  once  more  fell 
asleep  after  the  tenth  bath,  though  she  said  nothing 
more  than  “Emanuel,  I  see  thee  no  more!”  These 
were  the  last  words  she  spoke  in  her  transfigurations. 

Since  then  she  had,  indeed,  for  some  days,  an  unnat¬ 
urally  sound  sleep,  but  without  the  power  of  speech  in  it. 

At  last  arrived  the  day  of  her  thirteenth  bath.  Until 
now,  all  that  she  had  commanded  or  predicted  in  her 
transfigured  hours,  had  been  most  punctually  fulfilled. 
Now  was  the  last  to  be  done.  The  count  and  prince 
came  to  me  early  in  the  morning,  in  order  to  remind 
me  of  the  speedy  delivery  of  my  amulet.  I  must  show 
it  to  them.  They  did  not  leave  me  for  a  moment  the 
whole  morning,  as  if,  that  now  being  so  near  the  long- 
desired  goal,  they  had  suddenly  become  mistrustful,  and 
feared  I  might,  as  regarded  the  sacrifice,  change  my 
mind ;  or  that  the  relic  might  accidentally  be  lost.  The 
minutes  were  counted  as  soon  as  the  news  came  that  the 
countess  was  in  the  bath.  When  she  had  reposed  some 
hours  after  her  bath,  she  was  conducted  by  us  to  the 
castle.  She  was  uncommonly  gay,  almost  mischievous. 
Having  been  told  that  she  was  to  receive  a  present  from 
me  in  the  seventh  hour,  which  she  must  wear  all  hei 
life,  she  was  delighted  as  a  child  at  a  gift,  and  teazed 
me,  jestingly,  with  the  faithlessness  I  committed  toward 
my  chosen  one,  whose  present  I  gave  to  another. 

It  struck  twelve !  The  seventh  hour  had  arrived. 
We  were  in  the  bright  garden  saloon.  The  count,  the 
prince,  and  the  women  of  the  countess  were  present. 

“Delay  no  longer,”  cried  the  count,  “the  moment 
which  is  to  be  the  last  of  Horten  sia’s  sufferings  and  the 
first  of  my  happiness.” 


APrENDIX. 


429 


I  drew  the  dear  medallion  from  my  breast,  whe.'e  1  had 
had  carried  it  so  long,  and  loosening  the  golden  chain 
from  my  neck,  pressed,  not  without  a  sorrowful  feeling, 
a  kiss  upon  the  glass,  and  delivered  it  to  the  countess. 

Hortensia  took  it,  and  as  her  look  fell  on  the  dried 
rose,  a  sudden  and  fiery  red  spread  over  her  face.  She 
bowed  gently  toward  me,  as  if  she  would  thank  me — but 
in  her  features  one  discovered  a  surprise  or  confusion, 
which  she  appeared  to  endeavor  to  conceal.  She  stam¬ 
mered  some  words,  and  then  suddenly  withdrew  with 
her  women.  The  count  and  prince  were  all  gratitude 
toward  me.  They  had  arranged  for  the  evening  a  little 
festival  at  the  castle,  to  which  some  noble  families  from 
Este  and  Kovigo  were  invited. 

In  the  mean  time  we  expected  long,  and  in  vain,  the 
reappearance  of  the  countess.  After  an  hour  we  learnt, 
that  as  soon  as  she  had  put  on  the  medallion,  she  had 
fallen  into  a  sweet  and  profound  sleep.  Two,  three,  four 
hours  passed — the  invited  guests  had  assembled,  but  Hor- 
tensia  did  not  awake.  The  count  in  great  disquiet  ven¬ 
tured  to  go  himself  to  her  bed.  As  he  found  her  in  a  deep 
and  quiet  slumber,  he  feared  to  disturb  her.  The  fete 
passed  over  without  Hortensia’s  presence — though,  with¬ 
out  her,  half  the  pleasure  was  wanting.  Hortensia  still 
slept  as  they  separated  about  midnight.  And  even  the 
following  morning  she  was  still  in  the  same  sound  sleep. 
No  noise  affected  her.  The  count  was  in  great  agony. 
My  uneasiness  was  no  less.  A  physician  was  called, 
who  assured  us  that  the  countess  slept  a  sound  and  re¬ 
freshing  sleep — both  her  color  and  pulse  announced  the 
most  perfect  health.  Midday  and  evening  came— -yet 
Hortensia  did  not  awake !  The  repeated  assurances  of 


430 


APPENDIX. 


the  physician  that  the  countess  was  manifestly  in  per¬ 
fect  health,  were  necessary  to  quiet  us.  The  night 
came  and  passed.  The  next  morning  rejoicing  echoed 
through  the  castle,  as  Hortensia’s  women  announced 
her  cheerful  waking.  Every  one  hurried  forward,  and 
wished  the  restored  one  joy. 


NEW  ENCHANTMENT. 

Wherefore  shall  I  not  say  it?  During  the  general 
joy,  I  alone  remained  sad— ah  !  more  than  sad,  in  my 
room.  The  duties,  on  account  of  which  I  had  entered 
into  an  engagement  with  Count  ITortnegg,  were  now 
fulfilled.  I  could  leave  him  whenever  I  chose.  I  had 
often  enough  expressed  my  desire  and  intention  of 
doing  so.  Not! ling  more  was  expected  from  me,  but 
that  I  should  keep  my  word.  Yet  only  to  be  allowed  to 
breathe  in  her  vicinity,  appeared  to  me  the  most  envia¬ 
ble  of  all  lots — to  receive  only  one  of  her  looks,  the 
most  exquisite  nourishment  to  the  flame  of  life — to  live 
far  from  her,  was  to  me  the  sentence  of  death. 

But  I  thought  of  her  near  marriage  with  the  prince, 
and  the  fickleness  of  the  weak  count — I  thought  of  my 
own  honor — of  my  necessities — that  I  was  free  to  die — 
then  my  pride  and  firmness  were  roused,  and  the  deter 
mination  remained  to  withdraw  from  the  service  of  the 
count  as  soon  as  possible.  I  swore  to  fly.  I  saw  that  my 
misery  was  without  end  ;  but  I  preferred  bidding  adieu 
to  joy  for  the  remainder  of  life  to  becoming  contempti¬ 
ble  to  myself. 


APPENDIX. 


431 


I  found  Hortensia  in  the  garden  of  the  ce  Btle.  A 
6oft  shudder  ran  through  me  as  I  approached  her,  in 
order  to  offer  my  congratulation.  She  stood,  separated 
from  her  women,  thoughtfully  before  a  bed  of  flowers. 
She  appeared  fresher  and  more  blooming  than  I  had 
ever  seen  her — glowing  with  a  new  life.  She  first  dis¬ 
covered  my  presence  as  I  spoke  to  her. 

“  How  you  frightened  me?”  said  she,  laughing  and 
embarrassed,  while  a  deep  blush  overspread  her  beauti¬ 
ful  cheeks. 

“  I  also,  my  dear  countess,  would  offer  to  you  my  joy 
and  good  wishes.” 

I  could  say  no  more — my  voice  began  to  tremble — • 
my  thoughts  became  confused — I  could  not  support  her 
looks,  which  penetrated  into  the  depths  of  my  heart. 
With  difficulty  I  stammered  an  excuse  for  having  dis¬ 
turbed  her. 

Her  looks  were  silently  fastened  on  me.  After  a  long 
pause,  she  said  :  “  You  speak  of  joy,  dear  Faust ;  are 
you  also  gay  ?” 

“  Heartily,  as  T  know  you  to  be  saved  from  an  illness 
by  which  you  have  so  long  suffered.  In  a  few  days  I 
must  depart,  and  endeavor,  if  it  be  possible,  in  other 
lands,  to  belong  to  myself,  since  I  am  no  longer  con¬ 
nected  with  any  one.  My  promise  is  redeemed.” 

“  Is  it  your  serious  intention  to  leave  us,  dear  Faust? 
I  hope  not.  How  can  you  say  that  you  belong  to  no 
one?  Have  you  not  bound  us  to  you  by  all  the  obli¬ 
gations  of  gratitude  ?  What  forces  you  tc  separate  from 
us  ?”  said  the  countess. 

I  laid  my  hand  upon  my  heart ;  my  looks  sunk  to 
the  earth  ;  to  speak  was  impossible. 


432 


APPENDIX. 


“You  remain  with  us,  Faust.  Is  it  not  so?”  said  the 
countess. 

“  I  dare  not,”  I  replied. 

‘‘And  if  I  entreat  you,  Faust?”  said  the  countess. 

“  For  God’s  sake,  gracious  countess,  do  not  entreat — 

do  not  command  me.  I  can  only  be  well  when  I - 

JSro,  1  must  go  hence  I  replied. 

“You  are  not  happy  with  us— and  yet  what  other 
employment,  what  other  duty,  draws  you  from  us?” 
asked  the  countess. 

“  Duty  toward  myself,”  I  replied. 

“  Go,  then,  Faust,”  said  the  countess,  “  I  have  been 
mistaken  in  you.  I  believed  that  we  also  were  of  some 
value  to  you.” 

“  Gracious  countess,”  I  replied,  “  if  you  knew  what 
your  words  excite,  you  would,  from  compassion,  for¬ 
bear.” 

“  I  must,  then,  be  silent,  Faust.  Go,  then,  but  you 
commit  a  great  injustice,”  said  the  countess. 

As  she  said  these  words,  she  turned  from  me.  I 
ventured  to  follow  her,  and  entreated  her  not  to  be 
angry.  Tears  fell  from  her  eyes.  I  was  frightened. 
With  folded  hands,  I  implored  her  not  to  be  angry. 

“  Command  me,  I  will  obey,”  said  I.  “  Do  you  com¬ 
mand  me  to  remain?  My  inward  peace,  my  happiness, 
my  life,  I  sacrifice  with  joy  to  this  command  !” 

“Go,  Faust;  I  force  nothing,”  said  the  countess. 
“  You  remain  unwillingly  with  us.” 

“  Oh  !  countess !”  said  I,  “  drive  not  a  man  to  des¬ 
peration.” 

“Faust,  when  do  you  depart?”  said  she. 

“  To-morrow — to-day,”  I  replied. 


APPENDIX. 


433 


No,  no,  Faust!”  said  she,  softly,  and  approached 
nearer  to  me — “I  place  no  value  on  my  health,  on  your 

gift,  if  you -  Faust !  you  remain,  at  least,  only  a 

few  days,”  she  whispered  with  such  a  soft,  entreating 
voice,  and  looked  so  anxiously  at  me  ■with  her  moist 
eyes,  that  I  ceased  to  be  master  over  my  will. 

“  I  remain,”  said  I. 

“  But  willingly  ?”  she  asked. 

“With  delight,”  I  replied. 

“  It  is  well !  Now  leave  me  for  a  moment,  Faust. 
You  have  quite  disturbed  me.  But  do  not  leave  the 
garden.  I  only  wish  to  recover  myself.” 

With  these  words  she  left  me,  and  disappeared 
among  the  blooming  orange-trees. 

I  remained  long  in  the  same  place,  like  a  dreamer. 
I  had  never  heard  such  language  from  the  countess 
before;  it  was  not  that  of  mere  politeness.  My  whole 
being  trembled  at  the  idea  that  I  possessed  some  in¬ 
terest  in  her  heart.  These  solicitations  for  me  to  re¬ 
main — these  tears,  and,  what  can  not  be  described,  that 
peculiar  something — the  extraordinary  language  in  her 
manners,  in  her  movements,  in  her  voice — a  language, 
without  words,  yet  which  said  more  than  words  could 
express.  I  understood  nothing  of  it  all,  and,  neverthe¬ 
less,  understood  all ;  I  doubted,  and  yet  was  convinced. 

In  about  ten  minutes,  as  I  wandered  up  and  down 
the  garden  walks,  and  joined  the  women,  the  countess 
approached  us  quickly  and  gayly.  Enveloped  in  white 
drapery,  and  surrounded  by  the  sun’s  rays,  she  appear¬ 
ed  like  a  being  out  of  Raphael's  dreams.  In  her  hand 
she  carried  a  bouquet  of  pinks,  roses,  and  violet-colored 
vanilla  flowers. 

iy 


APPENDIX. 


m 


“I  have  plucked  a  few  flowers  for  you,  dear  Faust,” 
do  not  despise  them.  I  give  them  to  you  with  quite 
different  feelings  from  those  which,  during  my  sickness, 
I  gave  the  rose.  But  I  should  not  remind  you,  my 
dear  physician,  how  I  vexed  you  with  my  childish  hu¬ 
mors.  I  recollect  it  myself,  as  in  duty  hound,  in  order 
to  make  up  for  it.  And,  oh  !  how  much  have  I  to 
make  np!  Do  give  me  your  arm — and  you,  Miss 
Cecilia,  take  the  other,”  which  was  the  name  of  one 
of  her  women. 

As  we  wandered  around  with  light  chat  and  jokes, 
her  father,  the  count,  joined  us,  and  soon  after,  the 
prince.  Never  had  Hortensia  been  more  lovely  than 
on  this,  the  first  day  of  her  restored  health.  She  spoke 
with  tender  respect  to  her  father — with  friendly  famil¬ 
iarity  to  her  female  companions — with  refined  polite¬ 
ness  and  goodness  to  the  prince ;  to  me,  never  without 
demonstrations  of  her  gratitude.  Not  that  she  thank¬ 
ed  me  with  words,  but  in  the  manner  in  whieli  she 
spoke  to  me.  So  soon  as  she  turned  to  me,  there  was 
in  her  words  and  tone  something  indescribably  cordial ; 
in  her  looks  and  manner  something  of  a  sisterly  confi¬ 
dence,  good-naturedly  solicitous  for  my  satisfaction. 
This  tone  did  not  change  either  in  the  presence  of  her 
father  or  of  the  prince.  She  continued  it  with  an 
ingenuousness  and  sincerity,  as  if  it  ought  not  to  be 
otherwise. 

Some  delightful  days  passed  by  in  fetes  and  joy. 
ITortensia’s  manner  toward  me  did  not  change.  I, 
myself,  ever  wavering  between  the  cold  laws  of  respect 
and  the  flames  of  passion,  found  once  more  in  Horten- 
sia’s  conversation  an  inward  repose  and  independence, 


APPENDIX. 


435 


which  I  had  been  deprived  of  since  my  acquaintance 
with  this  prodigy.  Her  sincerity  and  truth  made  me 
more  calm  and  contented  ;  her  confidence,  as  it  were, 
more  fraternal.  She  did  not  at  all  conceal  a  heart  full 
of  the  purest  friendship  for  me — still  less  did  I  conceal 
my  feelings,  though  at  the  same  time  I  did  not  venture 
to  betray  their  depth.  Yet  who  could  long  behold  so 
many  charms  and  resist  their  influence? 

It  was  the  custom  for  the  visitors  of  the  baths  at  Bat¬ 
taglia,  on  fine  evenings,  to  sit  assembled  before  a  large 
coffee-house,  enjoying  the  air  and  refreshments.  An 
unconstrained  conversation  reigned  there.  They  sat 
upon  chairs  in  the  open  street,  and  in  a  half  circle.  To 
the  right  and  left  were  heard  the  sounds  of  guitars, 
mandolines,  and  singing,  after  the  Italian  mode.  In 
the  great  houses,  also,  music  sounded,  and  windows 
and  doors  were  lighted.  One  evening,  the  prince  hav¬ 
ing  left  us  earlier  than  usual,  the  countess  took  a  whim 
to  visit  this  assemblage  of  the  visitors  of  the  place.  I 
was  already  in  my  room,  and  sat  holding  the  bouquet 
in  both  hands,  dreaming  over  my  destiny.  The  light 
burnt  dimly,  and  my  room-door  stood  half  open.  Horten- 
sia  and  Cecilia  saw  me  as  they  passed.  They  watched 
me  for  some  time,  and  then  came  softly  in.  I  did  not 
observe  them  till  they  stood  close  beside  me,  and  de¬ 
clared  that  I  must  accompany  them  to  the  town. 
They  now  amused  themselves  with  jests  at  my  surprise. 
Hortensia  recognized  the  bouquet.  She  took  it  from 
the  table  where  I  had  thrown  it,  and,  withered  as  it 
was,  stuck  it  in  her  bosom.  We  went  down  to  Battag¬ 
lia  and  mingled  with  the  company. 

It  happened  that  Cecilia,  in  conversation  with  somo 


436 


APPENDIX. 


persons  of  her  acquaintance,  separated  from  us,  which 
neither  Hortensia  nor  myself  regretted.  On  my  arm 
she  wandered  up  and  down  through  the  moving  crowd, 
till  she  was  fatigued.  We  seated  ourselves  on  a  little 
bench,  under  an  elm  which  grew  on  one  side.  The 
moon  shone  through  the  branches  upon  Hortensia’s  beau¬ 
tiful  face,  and  upon  the  withered  flowers  in  her  bosom 

“  Will  you  again  rob  me  of  what  you  have  given 
me  ?”  asked  I,  as  I  pointed  to  the  bouquet. 

She  looked  at  me  long,  with  a  strange,  thoughtful 
seriousness,  and  then  replied :  “  It  always  appears  to 
me  as  if  I  could  give  you  nothing,  and  could  take 
nothing  from  you.  Is  it  not  sometimes  the  same 
with  you  ?” 

This  answer  and  question,  so  lightly  and  quietly 
thrown  out,  placed  me  in  embarrassment  and  silence. 
From  respect,  I  scarcely  dared  to  dwell  on  the  kind 
meaning.  She  once  more  repeated  the  question. 

“  Alas  !  it  is  often  so  with  me !”  said  I.  “  When  I 
see  the  abyss  between  you  and  myself,  and  the  distance 
which  holds  me  far  from  yon,  then  it  is  so  with  me. 
Who  can  give  or  take  from  the  gods,  that  which  does 
not  always  belong  to  them 

She  opened  her  eyes,  and  looked  at  me  with  aston¬ 
ishment. 

“Why  do  you  speak  of  the  gods,  Faust?  Even  to 
one’s  self,  one  can  give  or  take  nothing.” 

“  One’s  self?”  replied  I,  with  an  uncertain  voice. 
“  You  know  that  you  have  made  me  your  own  prop¬ 
erty  !” 

“  I  do  not  myself  know  how  it  is,”  she  answered,  and 
her  eyes  sank  down. 


APPENDIX. 


437 


“  But  I,  dear  countess ;  I  know  it.  The  enchant¬ 
ment  which  ruled  over  us  is  not  lost,  but  has  only 
changed  its  direction.  Formerly,  in  your  transfigura¬ 
tions,  I  governed  your  will,  now  you  govern  mine.  In 
your  presence  only  do  I  live.  I  can  do  nothing— I  am 
nothing  without  you.  If  my  confession — a  crime  before 
the  world,  but  not  before  God— vexes  you,  I  am  not  the 
cause,  since  it  is  at  your  command  that  I  have  acted. 
Can  I  dissemble  before  you  ?  If  it  is  a  crime  that  my 
soul  has  involuntarily  become  chained  to  your  being,  it 
is  not  my  offense.” 

She  turned  away  her  face,  and  raised  her  hand  to 
denote  that  I  should  be  silent.  I  had  at  the  same  mo¬ 
ment  raised  mine,  in  order  to  cover  my  eyes,  which 
were  dimmed  in  tears.  The  upraised  hands  sank  down 
clasped  together.  We  were  silent;  thought  was  lost  in 
powerful  feelings.  I  had  betrayed  my  passion — but 
Hortensia  had  pardoned  me. 

Cecilia  disturbed  us.  We  went  silently  back  to  the 
castle.  As  we  separated,  the  countess  said,  lowly  and 
sadly  :  “  Through  you  I  have  obtained  health  only  to 
suffer  more.” 


petkakch’s  dwelling. 

When  we  met  the  next  day,  there  was  a  kind  of 
sacred  timidity  between  us.  I  scarcely  ventured  to 
address  her — she  scarcely  to  answer  me.  In  our  looks, 
full  of  seriousness,  we  often  met.  She  appeared  to  wish 
to  look  through  me.  I  sought  to  read  in  her  calmer 
moments  if  she  were  offended  at  my  boldness  of  yester- 


438 


APPENDIX. 


day.  Many  days  passed,  without  our  again  seeing  each 
other  alone.  "We  had  a  secret  between  us,  and  feared 
to  profane  it  by  a  look.  Hortensia’s  whole  manner  was 
more  solemn— her  gay ety  more  moderate — as  if  she  did 
not  enter  with  her  whole  heart  into  the  customary 
routine  of  life. 

Nevertheless,  I  counted  too  much  on  her  changed 
manner,  after  that  decisive  hour  under  the  elm.  Prince 
Charles  had,  as  I  afterward  learnt,  formally  solicited 
the  hand  of  the  countess,  which  had  caused  an  unpleas¬ 
ing  and  constrained  state  between  herself,  her  father, 
and  the  prince.  In  order  to  gain  time,  and  not  to  offend 
them,  Hortensia  had  entreated  for  time  for  reflection  : 
and  truly,  for  such  an  unlimited  period,  and  under  such 
hard  conditions,  that  Charles  must  almost  despair  ever 
to  see  his  wishes  crowned. 

“Not  that  I  have  any  aversion  to  the  prince,”  as  she 
expressed  her  explanation,  “  but  I  wish  still  to  enjoy 
my  freedom.  I  will,  at  a  future  day,  of  myself  and  vol¬ 
untarily,  give  my  yes  or  no.  But  if  the  offer  is  repeated 
before  I  desire  it,  then  I  am  determined  to  reject  him, 
even  though  I  may  truly  love  him.” 

The  count  knew  of  old  the  inflexible  disposition  of 
his  daughter ;  though  from  that  reason  he  hoped  the 
best,  since  Hortensia  had  not  directly  refused  the  at¬ 
tentions  of  the  prince.  Charles,  on  the  contrary,  was 
discouraged.  He  saw,  in  this  declaration,  only  the 
finally  rejected  lover,  without  any  definite  hopes.  Yet 
he  had  sufficient  self-love  to  believe  that,  by  his  con¬ 
stancy,  lie  should  at  last  move  Hortensia’s  heart.  Her 
confidence  towaid  me  was  at  times  displeasing  to  him, 
not  that  he  appeared  to  fear  it — he  even  found  it  so 


APPENDIX. 


439 


much  the  more  without  danger,  because  it  was  open 
and  unembarrassed.  Hortensia  also  treated  him  in  the 
same  manner.  He  had  accustomed  himself  to  see  me 
treated  as  the  friend  of  the  house,  and  confidential  ad¬ 
viser  both  of  the  father  and  daughter;  and  as  the  count 
had  confided  to  him  the  secret  of  my  plebeian  descent, 
he  could  still  less  fear  me  as  a  rival.  He  condescended 
to  make  me  bis  confidant,  and  one  day  related  to  me 
the  history  of  his  wooing  Hortensia’s  hand,  and  her 
answer.  He  conjured  me  to  grant  my  friendly  services 
to  discover,  however  distant,  if  Hortensia  had  any  in¬ 
clination  toward  him.  I  was  obliged  to  promise  it. 
Every  day  he  inquired  if  I  had  made  any  discovery? 
I  could  always  excuse  myself,  that  I  had  no  opportunity 
of  seeing  Hortensia  alone. 

Probably,  in  order  to  facilitate  this  opportunity,  he 
arranged  a  little  party  of  pleasure  to  Arquato,  three 
miles  from  Battaglia,  where  the  visitors  of  the  baths 
were  accustomed  to  make  a  pilgrimage  to  the  tomb  and 
dwelling-house  of  Petrarch.  Hortensia  esteemed,  above 
all  the  Italian  poets,  this  tender  and  spiritualized  song¬ 
ster  of  pure  love.  She  had  long  been  enjoying  the 
idea  of  this  pilgrimage.  But  when  the  moment  of  de¬ 
parture  arrived,  Charles,  under  some  light  pretense,  not 
only  remained  behind  himself,  but  contrived  also  to 
prevent  the  count  from  accompanying  Hortensia, 
promising,  however,  to  follow  us. 

I  conducted  the  ladies  to  the  church-yard  of  the 
village,  where  a  simple  monument  covered  the  ashes  of 
the  immortal  poet,  and  translated  the  Latin  inscription 
for  them.  Hortensia  stood  absorbed  in  deep  and 
serious  thought  before  the  grave.  She  sighed,  as  she 


440 


APPENDIX. 


remarked,  “  Tims  die  all !”  and  I  thought  I  felt  her 
draw  my  arm  slightly  toward  her.  “  Die  all  f  ”  said  I ; 
“  then  would  not  the  life  of  man  be  a  cruelty  of  the 
Creator,  and  love  the  heaviest  curse  of  life  ?” 

Sorrowfully  we  left  the  church-yard.  A  friendly  old 
man  led  us  from  thence  to  a  vine  hill,  not  far  distant, 
upon  which  stands  Petrarch’s  dwelling,  and  near  by  a 
little  garden.  From  this  spot  the  prospect  of  the  plain 
is  truly  beautiful.  In  the  house  they  showed  us  the 
poet’s  household  furniture,  which  was  preserved  with 
religious  faithfulness — the  table  at  which  he  read  and 
wrote,  the  chair  on  which  he  rested,  and  even  his 
kitchen  utensils. 

The  sight  of  such  relics  always  has  a  peculiar  in¬ 
fluence  on  my  mind.  It  annihilates  the  interval  of 
centuries  and  brings  the  distant  past  prominently  before 
the  imagination.  To  me,  it  was  as  if  the  poet  had  only 
gone  out,  and  that  he  would  presently  open  the  little 
brown  door  of  his  chamber  to  greet  us.  Hortensia 
found  an  elegant  edition  of  Petrarch’s  sonnets  on  a 
table  in  a  corner.  Wearied,  she  seated  herself  there, 
rested  her  beautiful  head  upon  her  hand,  and  read 
attentively,  while  the  fingers  of  her  supporting  hand 
concealed  her  eyes.  Beatrice  and  Cecilia  went  to  pre¬ 
pare  refreshments  for  the  countess.  I  remained  silently 
at  the  window.  Petrarch’s  love  and  hopelessness  were 
my  destiny.  Another  Laura  sat  there,  divine,  not 
through  the  charms  of  the  muse,  but  of  herself. 

Hortensia  took  a  handkerchief  to  dry  her  eyes.  I 
was  troubled  at  seeing  her  weep.  I  approached  her 
timidly,  but  did  not  venture  to  address  her.  She  sud¬ 
denly  rose,  and  smiling,  said  to  me,  with  a  tearful  look, 


APPENDIX. 


441 


“  The  poor  Petrarch  !  the  poor  human  heart !  But  all 
passes — all.  It  is  centuries  since  lie  has  ceased  to 
lament.  Though  they  say,  that  in  his  latter  years  lie 
conquered  his  passion.  It  is  good  to  conquer  one's  self. 
May  it  not  be  called  destroying  one’s  self  ?” 

“If  necessity  commands  it,”  I  replied. 

“  Has  necessity  power  over  the  human  heart?  ”  asked 
the  countess. 

“  But,”  I  replied,  “  Laura  was  the  wife  of  Hugo  de 
Sade.  Her  heart  dared  not  belong  to  her  lover.  His 
fate  was  solitary  to  love,  solitary  to  die.  He  had  the 
gift  of  song,  and  the  muses  consoled  him.  He  was 
unhappy — as  I.” 

“As  you?”  replied  Hortensia,  with  a  scarcely  audible 
voice. — “  Unhappy,  Faust?” 

“  I  have  not,”  I  continued,  “  the  divine  gift  of  song ; 
therefore  my  heart  will  break,  since  it  hath  nothing  to 
console  it.  Countess,  dear  countess — dare  I  say  more 
than  I  have  said?  But  I  will  continue  worthy  of  your 
esteem,  and  that  can  only  be  by  manly  courage:  grant 
me  one  request — only  one  modest  request.” 

Hortensia  threw  down  ller  eyes,  but  did  not  answer. 

“  One  request,  dear  countess,  for  my  quiet,”  I  again 
said. 

“What  shall  I  do  ?  ”  whispered  she,  without  raising 
her  eyes. 

“  Am  I  certain  that  you  will  not  refuse  my  prayer?” 
I  asked. 

She  regarded  me  with  a  long,  serious  look,  and,  with 
an  indescribable  dignity  said:  “Faust,  I  know  not 
what  you  would  ask  :  but  how  great  soever  it  may  be 

19* 


442 


APPENDIX. 


— yes,  Faust,  I  am  indebted  to  you  for  iny  recovery — 
my  life  !  I  grant  your  request.  Speak.” 

I  seized  her  hand,  I  sank  at  her  feet,  I  pressed  her 
hand  to  my  burning  lips — I  almost  lost  consciousness 
and  speech.  Ilortensia  stood  with  downcast  eyes,  as  if 
from  apathy. 

I  at  length  gained  power  to  speak.  “  I  must  away 
from  here.  Let  me  fly  from  you.  I  dare  tarry  no 
longer.  Let  me,  in  some  solitude,  far  from  you,  tran¬ 
quillize  my  unhappy  life.  I  must  away !  I  disturb  the 
peace  of  your  house.  Charles  has  demanded  your 
hand?” 

“I  will  never  have  him!”  said  the  countess,  hurriedly 
and  with  a  firm  tone. 

“  Let  me  fly.  Even  your  goodness  increases  the 
multitude  of  my  miseries.” 

Ilortensia  struggled  violently  with  herself. 

“  You  commit  a  fearful  injustice  !  But  I  can  no 
longer  prevent  it !”  cried  she,  as  she  burst  into  a  pas¬ 
sionate  flood  of  tears.  She  staggered,  and  sought  the 
chair — seeing  which  I  sprang  up,  and  she  sank  sobbing 
on  my  breast.  After  some  moments  she  recovered, 
and  feeling  herself  encircled  by  my  arms,  she  en¬ 
deavored  to  loosen  my  hold.  But  I,  forgetting  the  old 
commands  of  respect,  pressed  her  more  closely  as  I 
sighed,  “  A  few  moments,  and  then  we  part !” 

Her  resistance  ceased ;  she  then  raised  her  eyes  on 
me,  and  with  a  countenance  on  which,  as  formerly,  the 
color  of  transfiguration  glimmered,  said:  “Faust,  what 
are  you  doing?” 

“Will  you  not  forget  me  in  my  absence?”  asked  I* 
in  return. 


APPENDIX. 


443 


“  Can  I  ?”  sighed  she,  and  tlirew  down  her  eyes. 

“  Farewell,  Ilortensia  !”  stammered  I,  and  my  cheek 
rested  on  hers. 

“  Emanuel !  Emanuel !”  whispered  she.  Our  lips 
met.  I  felt  tenderly  and  gently  her  reciprocal  kiss, 
while  one  of  her  arms  rested  around  my  neck. 

Minutes — quarters  of  hours  passed. 

At  length,  together  and  in  silence,  we  left  the  dwell¬ 
ing  of  Petrarch,  and  proceeded  in  the  path  down  the 
hill,  where  we  found  two  servants,  who  conducted  us 
to  an  arbor  under  some  wild  laurel  trees  At  that 
moment,  the  carriage  of  the  prince  rolled  by.  Charles 
and  the  count  descended  from  it. 

Ilortensia  was  very  serious  and  laconic  in  her 
answers.  She  appeared  lost  in  continual  meditation. 
I  saw  that  she  was  obliged  to  force  herself  to  speak  to 
the  prince.  Toward  me  she  preserved,  unchanged,  the 
cordiality  and  confidence  of  her  deportment.  Pe¬ 
trarch’s  dwelling  was  again  visited,  as  the  count  wished 
to  see  it.  As  we  entered  the  room,  which  had  been  con¬ 
secrated  by  the  mutual  confession  of  our  hearts,  Horten- 
sia  seated  herself  again  on  the  chair  near  the  table,  in 
the  same  place,  and  with  the  book,  as  at  first,  and  so  re¬ 
mained  till  we  departed.  Then  she  arose,  laid  her 
hand  upon  her  breast,  cast  a  penetrating  look  on  me, 
and  hurried  quickly  from  the  apartment. 

The  prince  had  remarked  this  emotion  and  this  look. 
A  deep  red  rose  over  his  countenance  ;  he  went  out 
with  folded  arms,  and  his  head  hung  down.  All  joy 
retreated  from  our  party.  Every  one  appeared  desirous 
to  reach  the  castle  soon  again.  I  did  not  doubt  but 
that  Charles’  jealousy  had  guessed  all,  and  feared  his 


444 


APPENDIX. 


revenge  less  for  myself,  than  for  the  peace  of  the  conn 
tess.  Therefore,  as  soon  as  I  returned  home,  I  deter¬ 
mined  to  arrange  every  thing  for  my  speedy  departure 
the  next  morning.  I  communicated  my  irrevocable 
resolution  to  the  count,  gave  up  to  him  all  the  papers, 
and  entreated  him  to  say  nothing  to  the  countess  until 
1  was  gone. 


MELANCHOLY  SEPARATION. 

I  had  long  since  obtained  the  consent  of  the  count 
that,  in  this  event,  the  honest  old  Sebald  should  ac¬ 
company  me,  who  had  many  times  demanded  his  dis¬ 
missal,  in  order  to  revisit  his  German  home.  Sebald 
twirled  and  danced  round  the  room  for  joy,  when  lie 
heard  from  me  that  the  moment  of  departure  had  ar¬ 
rived.  A  horse  and  cloak-bag  for  each,  was  our  whole 
equipment  for  the  journey. 

I  had  determined  to  withdraw  very  quietly,  at  the 
dawn  of  the  following  day.  No  one  knew  any  thing  of 
my  departure,  except  the  count  and  old  Sebald,  and  I 
desired  that  no  one  should  know  it.  I  determined  to 
leave  behind,  for  Hortensia,  a  few  lines  of  thanks  and 
love,  and  an  eternal  farewell.  The  old  count  appeared 
surprised,  though  not  discontented.  He  embraced  me 
most  tenderly,  thanked  me  for  the  services  I  had  per¬ 
formed,  and  promised  within  an  hour  to  come  to  my 
room,  in  order  to  give  me  some  useful  papers,  which 
would  procure  me  for  the  future  a  life  free  from  care, 
and  which,  as  he  expressed  it,  was  only  a  payment  on 


APPENDIX. 


4-15 


i 


account  of  a  debt  for  life.  I  would  not  refuse  a  mod¬ 
erate  sum  for  traveling  expenses,  in  order  to  reach  Ger¬ 
many — in  fact,  I  was  almost  without  money — but  my 
pride  refused  to  take  more. 

I  packed  up  as  soon  as  I  returned  to  my  room.  Se- 
bald  hurried  out  to  prepare  the  horses,  and  arrange 
every  thing  for  departing  at  the  moment.  In  the  mean 
time  I  wrote  to  Hortensia.  I  can  not  describe  what  I 
suffered — how  I  struggled  with  myself — how  often  I 
sprang  up  from  writing,  to  relieve  my  pains  with  tears. 
My  life  until  now,  had  been  one  full  of  care  and  unhap¬ 
piness — and  the  dim  future  to  me  presented  nothing 
more  soothing  to  the  soul.  Death,  thought  I,  is  sweeter 
and  easier  than  thus  to  outlive  hope. 

I  destroyed  many  times  what  I  had  written,  and  had 
not  finished,  when  I  was  disturbed  in  a  manner  that  I 
least  expected. 

Trembling,  and  almost  breathless,  Sebald  rushed 
into  my  room,  hastily  took  up  the  portmanteau,  and 
cried  : — 

“  Mr.  Faust,  some  mischief  has  happened  :  they  will 
drag  you  to  prison  ;  they  will  murder  you !  Let  us 
fly,  ere  it  is  too  late.” 

In  vain  I  asked  the  cause  of  his  fright.  I  only  learnt 
that  the  count  was  in  a  rage,  the  prince  raving,  and 
every  one  in  the  castle  roused  against  me.  I  replied 
coldly,  that  I  had  nothing  to  fear,  and  still  less  to  fly 
like  a  criminal. 

“  Sir,”  cried  Sebald,  “  one  can  not  escape  without 
misfortune  from  this  unhappy  family,  over  which  a  bad 
6tar  rules.  This  I  have  long  since  said.  Fly  !” 

At  this  moment,  two  of  the  count’s  gamekeepers 


446 


APPENDIX. 


came  in,  and  requested  me  to  come  immediately  to  the 
count.  Sebald  blinked  and  winked,  and  urged  me  to 
endeavor  to  escape.  I  could  not  avoid  smiling  at  his 
terror,  and  followed  the  servants.  I,  however,  com¬ 
manded  Sebald  to  saddle  the  horses,  since  I  no  longer 
doubted  that  something  extraordinary  had  occurred,  and 
thought  that  the  prince,  probably  from  jealousy,  had 
projected  some  quarrel  with  me. 

I  had  scarcely  reached  the  Count  Hormegg,  when 
Charles  came  storming  into  the  room,  and  declared 
that  I  had  dishonored  the  house,  and  had  a  secret 
intrigue  with  the  countess.  Beatrice,  the  companion 
of  the  countess,  gained  over  to  the  prince,  either 
by  his  presents  or  perhaps  by  his  tenderness,  had,  as 
she  left  Petrarch’s  dwelling  with  Cecilia,  become  im¬ 
patient  at  Hortensia  and  myself,  and  returned  and  saw 
us  in  the  embrace  of  each  other.  The  Abigail  was  dis¬ 
creet  enough  not  to  disturb  us,  but  was  prompt  enough, 
so  soon  as  we  returned  to  the  castle,  to  betray  the  im¬ 
portant  event  to  the  prince.  The  count,  who  could 
believe  any  thing  but  this — since  it  appeared  to  him  the 
most  unnatural  thing  in  the  world,  that  a  common 
citizen,  a  painter,  should  have  won  the  love  of  a  count¬ 
ess  of  Hormegg — treated  the  affair,  at  first,  as  a  mere 
illusion  of  jealousy.  The  prince,  for  his  justification, 
was  obliged  to  betray  his  informer ;  and  Beatrice, 
though  much  opposed  to  it,  was  compelled  to  acknowl¬ 
edge  what  she  had  seen.  The  anger  of  the  old  count 
knew  no  bounds,  yet  the  event  appeared  to  him  so 
monstrous,  that  he  determined  to  interrogate  the  count¬ 
ess  herself  upon  it.  Hortensia  appeared.  The  sight  of 


APPENDIX. 


447 


the  pale  faces,  disfigured  by  rage  and  fright,  excited  her 
ten  or. 

“  What  has  happened  ?”  cried  she,  almost  beside 
herself. 

With  fearful  earnestness,  the  count  replied,  “  That 
thou  must  say.”  He  then,  with  forced  tranquillity  and 
kindness,  took  her  hand,  and  said : 

“  Hortensia,  thou  art  accused  of  staining  the  honor  of 
our  name  by — well,  then,  it  must  be  said — by  an  intrigue 
with  the  painter,  Faust.  Hortensia,  deny  it — say  no! 
Give  honor  and  tranquillity  again  to  thy  father.  Thou 
canst  do  it.  Refute  all  malicious  tongues — refute  the 
assertion  that  thou  wast  seen  in  Faust’s  arms;  it  was  a 
delusion,  a  misunderstanding,  a  deception.  Here  stands 
the  prince,  thy  future  husband.  Reach  him  thy  hand. 
Declare  to  him,  that  all  that  has  been  said  against  thee 
and  Faust,  are  wicked  lies.  Faust’s  presence  shall  no 
longer  disturb  our  peace ;  this  night  he  leaves  us  for¬ 
ever.” 

The  count  spoke  still  longer.  He  did  so,  in  order  to 
give  an  advantageous  turn  to  the  fact- — since  the  alter¬ 
nate  redness  and  paleness  of  Hortensia,  allowed  him  no 
longer  to  doubt  of  its  truth — which  might  satisfy  the 
prince,  and  make  every  thing  smooth  again.  He  was 
prepared  for  nothing  less,  than  what  Hortensia,  as  soon 
as  he  was  silent,  openly  declared.  Excited  to  the  most 
impetuous  feelings,  as  much  by  the  treachery  of  Bea¬ 
trice,  who  was  still  present,  as  by  the  reproaches,  and 
the  news  of  my  sudden  departure — with  her  own  pecu¬ 
liar  dignity  and  resolution,  she  turned  first  toward  Bea¬ 
trice,  and  said : — 

“  Wretch  !  I  stand  not  opposed  to  you.  My  servant 


44S 


APPENDIX. 


must  not  be  my  accuser.  I  am  not  to  justify  myself 
before  you.  Leave  the  room  and  the  castle,  and  never 
appear  before  me  again.” 

Beatrice  fell  weeping  at  her  feet.  It  was  in  vain — 
she  must  obey,  and  departed. 

“Dear  Faust,”  said  she  to  me — and  her  cheeks 
glowed  with  an  unnatural  color — “  you  stand  here  as  one 
accused  or  condemned.”  She  then  related  what  had 
happened,  and  went  on  to  say :  “  They  expect  me  to 
justify  myself.  I  have  no  justification  to  make  before 
any  one  but  God,  the  judge  of  hearts.  I  have  only 
here  to  acknowledge  the  truth,  since  my  father  exacts 
it,  and  to  declare  my  unalterable  design,  since  destiny 
commands  it,  and  I  am  born  to  be  unhappy.  Faust,  I 
should  be  unworthy  of  your  regard,  could  I  not  raise 
myself  above  misfortune.” 

She  then  turned  to  the  prince,  and  said  :  “  I  esteem 
you,  but  I  do  not  love  you.  My  hand  will  never  be 
yours;  nourish  no  further  hopes.  After  what  has  just 
passed,  I  must  beg  of  you  to  avoid  us  forever.  Do  not 
expect  that  my  father  can  force  me  against  my  will. 
Life  is  indifferent  to  me.  His  first  act  of  power  would 
have  no  other  consequences  than  that  he  must  bury  the 
corpse  of  his  daughter.  To  you  I  have  nothing  more 
to  say.  But  to  you,  my  father,  I  must  acknowledge 
that  I  love — love  this  Faust.  But  it  is  not  my  fault. 
He  is  hateful  to  you — he  is  not  of  our  rank.  He  must 
separate  from  us.  I  annul  my  earthly  union  with  him. 
You,  my  father,  can  make  no  change,  since  any  en¬ 
deavor  to  do  so  will  be  the  end  of  my  life.  I  say  to  you, 
beforehand,  I  am  prepared  for  my  death,  since  that 
only  will  terminate  my  miseries.” 


APPENDIX. 


44'J 

She  stopped.  The  count  wished  to  speak — the  prince 
likewise.  She  motioned  them  to  be  silent.  She  ap¬ 
proached  me,  drew  a  ring  from  her  finger,  gave  it  to 
me,  and  said :  “  My  friend,  I  part  from  you,  perhaps 
forever.  Take  this  ring  in  remembrance  of  me.  This 
gold  and  these  diamonds  shall  become  dust,  sooner  than 
my  love  and  truth  shall  cease.  Do  not  forget  me.” 

As  she  said  this,  she  laid  her  arms  on  my  shoulders, 
pressed  a  kiss  on  my  lips — her  countenance  changed — 
the  blood  forsook  her  cheeks — and  pale  and  cold,  she 
sank  with  closed  eyes  to  the  floor. 

The  count  gave  a  piercing,  fearful  shriek.  The  prince 
called  for  assistance.  I  carried  the  beautiful  body  to  a 
couch.  Women  hurried  in — physicians  were  called.  I 
sank,  without  consciousness,  on  my  knees,  before  the 
couch,  and  held  the  cold  hand  of  the  senseless  one  to 
my  cheek.  The  count  tore  me  away.  He  was  like  a 
madman. 

“  Thou  hast  murdered  her  1”  thundered  he  to  me. 
'‘Fly,  wretch,  and  never  let  me  see  thee  again  !” 

He  thrust  me  out  of  the  door.  Upon  this  sign,  the 
huntsmen  seized  me  and  dragged  me  down  the  stairs 
before  the  castle.  Sebald  stood  before  the  stable.  There 
I  lost  all  power  and  sense.  I  lay,  as  Sebald  afterward 
said,  a  full  quarter  of  an  hour,  senseless  on  the  earth. 
I  had  scarcely  recovered,  when  he  lifted  me  upon  one 
of  the  horses,  and  we  hastened  from  the  castle.  I  rode 
as  if  in  my  sleep,  and  was  often  in  danger  of  falling. 
By  degrees,  I  gained  full  consciousness  and  power.  The 
past  was  now  clear  before  me.  I  became  desperate, 
and  determined  to  return  to  the  castle,  and  know  Hor- 
tensia’s  fate.  Sebald  entreated  me,  by  all  the  saints, 


450 


APPENDIX. 


to  give  up  so  frantic  a  design.  It  was  in  vain.  I  had 
just  turned  my  horse,  when  I  saw  a  rider  coming 
toward  us  at  full  gallop,  and  heard  some  one  cry, 
“Cursed  assassin.”  It  was  Charles’  voice.  At  the 
same  time,  some  shot  struck  me.  As  I  grasped  my 
pistols,  my  horse  fell  dead.  I  sprang  up.  Charles  rode 
toward  me  with  a  drawn  sword,  and  as  he  was  about 
to  cut  me  down,  I  shot  him  through  the  body.  His  at¬ 
tendant  caught  him  as  he  fell.  Sebald  pursued  them 
in  their  flight,  and  sent  some  balls  after  them.  He  then 
returned,  and  took  the  portmanteau  from  the  dead 
horse ;  I  mounted  with  him,  and  we  hurried  on  at  a 
quick  pace. 

This  murder  had  occurred  in  the  vicinity  of  a  little 
wood,  which  was  soon  reached.  The  sun  had  already 
set.  We  rode  through  the  whole  night,  without  know¬ 
ing  where.  As  we  stopped  at  daybreak,  at  a  village 
inn,  in  order  to  give  our  horse  some  rest,  we  found  him 
so  excoriated  by  the  saddle,  that  we  gave  up  all  hope 
of  using  him  further.  We  sold  him  at  a  very  low 
price,  and  continued  our  flight  on  foot  by  a  secure  road, 
carrying  our  baggage  by  turns. 


NEW  ADVENTURE. 

The  first  rays  of  the  setting  sun,  as  we  journeyed 
on,  fell  on  the  diamonds  of  Hortensia’s  ring.  I  kissed 
it,  and  wept  over  the  recollections  it  brought  to  my 
mind.  Sebald  had  already  told  in  the  night,  that  he 
had  heard  from  one  of  the  servants,  while  I  was  lying 


APPENDIX. 


451 


insensible  near  tbe  horses  in  the  yard,  that  Hortensia, 
who  had  been  considered  dead,  had  returned  to  life. 
This  news  had  strengthened  and  consoled  me.  I  was 
perfectly  indifferent  about  my  own  fate.  Hortensia’s 
greatness  of  soul  had  inspired  me.  I  was  proud  of  my 
misery.  My  conscience,  free  from  reproach,  raised  me 
above  all  fear.  I  had  but  one  sorrow — to  be  eternally 
separated  from  one  I  must  ever  love. 

When  we  reached  Ravenna,  we  took  our  first  day’s 
rest.  It  was  a  long  day’s  rest — for  I,  shaken  by  the 
late  events,  and  exhausted  hy  my  unusual  fatigue  and 
exertion,  was  very  ill.  For  two  weeks  I  lay  in  a  fever. 
Sebald  endured  the  most  painful  anxiety,  since  he 
feared,  and  justly,  the  murder  of  the  prince  would 
necessarily  bring  us  into  the  hands  of  justice.  He  had 
given  us  both  feigned  names,  and  bought  other  clothes. 
My  good  constitution,  more  than  the  science  of  my 
physician,  at  length  preserved  me,  though  great  weak¬ 
ness  remained  in  my  limbs.  But  as  we  had  determined 
to  go  by  ship  from  Bimini  to  Trieste,  I  hoped  to  recover 
my  health  on  the  way. 

One  evening,  Sebald  came  to  me  in  the  greatest 
fright,  and  said,  “  Sir,  we  can  remain  here  no  longer. 
A  stranger  stands  without,  and  wishes  to  speak  with 
you.  We  are  betrayed.  Tie  asked  at  first  my  name, 
and  I  could  not  deny  it.  He  then  asked  for  you.” 

“  Let  him  come  in,”  said  I. 

A  well-dressed  man  entered,  who,  after  the  first  ex¬ 
change  of  politeness,  inquired  after  my  health.  As  1 
assured  him  that  I  was  quite  well  again,  he  said,  “  So 
much  the  better.  I  may  then  give  you  some  good  advice. 
You  know  what  passed  between  Prince  Charles  and 


452 


APPENDIX. 


yourself.  He  is  out  of  danger,  but  lias  sworn  to  take 
your  life.  You  had,  therefore,  better  leave  immedi¬ 
ately.  You  intend  to  go  to  Germany,  by  Trieste.  Do 
not  do  so.  There  is  only  a  Neapolitan  vessel  that  goes 
back  to  Naples.  When  once  at  sea,  you  are  safe  ; 
otherwise,  in  a  few  hours,  death  or  a  prison.  Here  is  a 
letter  for  the  Neapolitan  captain,  he  is  my  truest  friend, 
and  will  receive  you  with  pleasure.  Now  go  immedi¬ 
ately  to  Rimini,  and  from  thence  to  Naples.” 

I  was  not  a  little  embarrassed  at  seeing  this  stranger 
so  well  informed.  To  my  question  how  he  acquired 
his  knowledge,  he  smiled,  and  only  replied,  “  I  know- 
nothing  more,  and  can  tell  you  nothing  more ;  I  reside 
here  in  Ravenna ;  I  am  a  clerk  of  the  court.  Save 
yourself.”  He  then  suddenly  left  us. 

Sebald  affirmed  stoutly  and  firmly,  that  the  man 
must  be  possessed  by  a  devil,  or  he  could  not  have 
known  our  secrets.  As  the  stranger  spoke  with  several 
of  the  people  of  the  hotel,  we  learnt  afterward,  that  the 
unknown  so-called  court’s  secretary,  was  a  good,  honest 
man,  wealthy  and  married.  It  was  incomprehensible 
how  our  most  carefully  concealed  plan  of  going  to  Ger¬ 
many  by  Trieste,  could  be  so  exactly  known,  as  no  one 
but  ourselves  was  privy  to  it.  The  enigma  was,  how¬ 
ever,  soon  served,  when  Sebald  confessed  to  me  that  he 
had,  during  my  illness,  written  a  letter  to  his  former 
comrade,  Casper,  at  Battaglia,  begging  to  know  whether 
the  prince  was  dead  or  not.  He  expected  the  answer 
in  vain.  Without  doubt,  the  letter  had  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  Charles  or  his  people,  or  the  contents  were 
betrayed  to  him. 

Sebald  was  now  in  the  greatest  anxiety.  He  engaged 


APPENDIX. 


453 


a  carriage  for  Rimini  without  delay,  and  we  set  out 
that  same  night.  These  untoward  circumstances  made 
me  not  quite  at  ease.  I  knew  not  whether  I  was  flying 
from,  or  going  to  meet  the  danger.  The  justice’s  clerk 
might  be  an  agent  of  the  prince.  In  the  mean  while 
we  not  only  reached  Rimini,  but  found  there  the  Nea¬ 
politan  captain.  I  gave  him  the  letter  of  the  clerk — 
though  I  do  not  deny  that  I  had  before  opened  and  read 
it.  I  soon  agreed  with  him  as  to  our  voyage  to  Naples. 
The  wind  became  fair — the  anchors  were  raised.  Beside 
ourselves,  there  were  some  other  travelevs  on  board ; 
among  others,  a  young  man,  whose  sight  at  first  was 
not  very  agreeable  to  me,  as  I  remembered  to  have 
seen  him  once,  though  very  transiently,  at  the  baths  of 
Battaglia.  I,  however,  became  easy,  as  1  judged  from 
his  conversation,  that  he  had  not  observed  me,  and  that 
I  was  completely  a  stranger  to  him.  He  had  only  left 
Battaglia  three  days  since,  and  was  returning  to  Na¬ 
ples,  where  he  had  carried  on  a  considerable  business, 
lie  mentioned  the  acquaintance  he  had  made  at  the 
baths,  and  spoke  of  the  German  countess,  who  was  a 
wonder  of  grace  and  beauty.  How  his  remark  made 
my  heart  beat !  He  appeared  to  know  nothing  of  the 
wounding  or  death  of  the  prince.  The  countess,  whose 
name  was  unknown  to  him,  had  gone  four  days  before 
him,  but  where,  he  had  not  troubled  himself  to  inquire. 

However  imperfect  this  news  was,  it  served  not  a  lit¬ 
tle  to  tranquilize  me.  Hortensia  lived — Hortensia  was 
in  health.  “  May  she  be  happy  !”  was  my  sigh. 

The  voyage  was  tedious  to  all  but  myself.  I  sought 
solitude.  Upon  the  deck,  I  watched  through  many 
uights,  and  dreamed  of  Hortensia.  The  young  mer- 


454 


APPENDIX. 


chant,  who  called  himself  Tufaldini,  remarked  my 
melancholy,  and  took  much  pains  to  enliven  me.  He 
heard  I  was  a  painter;  he  passionately  loved  the  art, 
and  constantly  turned  the  conversation  upon  that  sub¬ 
ject,  since  nothing  but  that  appeared  to  interest  or 
make  me  talkative.  His  sympathy  and  friendship  went 
so  far,  that  he  invited  me  to  stay  at  his  house  in  Naples, 
which  I  was  the  less  inclined  to  refuse,  as  I  was  an  en¬ 
tire  stranger  in  that  city,  and  my  own  and  Sebald’s 
joint  stock  of  gold,  particularly  after  the  deduction  of 
traveling  expenses,  had  considerably  dwindled  away. 


NEW  WONDEK. 

The  kindness  and  attention  of  the  generous  Tufal¬ 
dini,  in  fact  put  me  to  the  blush.  From  a  traveling  com¬ 
panion  he  made  himself  my  friend,  though  I  had  done 
little  or  nothing  to  gain  or  merit  his  love.  He  intro¬ 
duced  me  as  his  friend  to  his  aged  and  respectable 
mother,  and  his  charming  wife.  They  prepared  the 
best  chambers  for  Sebald  and  myself,  and  treated  me, 
from  the  first  day  of  our  arrival,  like  an  old  family 
friend.  But  Tufaldini  did  not  rest  here.  He  intro¬ 
duced  me  to  all  his  acquaintances,  and  orders  soon 
came  for  pictures.  He  was  as  eager  to  make  me  known 
as  if  it  were  for  his  own  advantage.  He  consented  at 
last  to  receive  payment  for  my  board  and  lodging, 
though  he  was  at  first  much  mortified  by  my  offering 
it.  But  when  he  saw  my  determination  to  leave  his 
house,  if  he  would  not  accept  any  remuneration,  he 


APPENDIX. 


455 


took  the  money,  though  more  to  gratify  me  than  in¬ 
demnify  himself. 

I  was,  above  all  expectation,  fortunate  in  my  works. 
My  pictures  were  liked,  and  I  was  paid  what  I 
demanded.  One  finished  order  brought  on  another. 
Even  Sebald  found  himself  so  comfortable  in  Naples, 
that  he  forgot  his  home-sickness.  He  thanked  God  for 
having  escaped  from  the  service  of  the  count  with  a  sound 
head,  and  would,  as  he  expressed  it,  rather  serve  me  for 
bread  and  water,  than  the  count  for  a  whole  bowl  of  gold. 

My  plan  was  to  gain  sufficient  by  my  labors  to  enable 
me  to  travel  to  Germany,  and  there  settle  myself.  I 
was  industrious  and  economical.  So  passed  one  year. 
The  love  which  I  enjoyed  in  Tufaldini’s  house;  my 
quiet  life  in  the  dissipated  city  ;  the  charm  of  the  soft 
climate,  and  then,  that  I  was  without  a  vocation,  with¬ 
out  friends  in  Germany,  induced  me  to  forget  my  first 
design.  I  remained  where  I  was.  Joy  bloomed  for 
me  as  little  in  Germany  as  in  the  Italian  soil ;  only  the 
thought  that  perhaps  Hortensia  dwelt  on  the  estate  of 
her  father,  that  I  might  then  have  the  consolation  to 
see  her  once  more,  though  at  a  distance  ;  this  thought 
alone  sometimes  drew  my  desires  toward  the  north. 
But  then  I  recollected  the  parting  hour  and  the  words  she 
spoke  :  I  annul  my  earthly  union  with  him  !  as  before 
her  father  she  solera idy,  and  with  such  heroic  greatness 
renounced  me  :  I  again  roused  my  courage,  and  deter¬ 
mined  to  suffer  all  and  cheerfully.  I  was  an  oak, 
which  the  storm  had  shattered,  without  branches,  with¬ 
out  leaves,  solitary,  unregarded,  and  dying  in  itself. 

It  is  said  that  time’s  beneficent  hand  heals  all 
wounds.  I  myself  had  believed  the  saying,  but  found 


456 


APPENDIX. 


it  untr  le.  My  melancholy  continued  the  same — I 
avoided  the  gay.  Tears  often  gave  me  relief,  and  my 
only  joy  was  to  dream  of  her — when  I  again  saw  her 
in  her  greatness  and  loveliness.  Her  ring  was  my 
holiest  relic.  Had  it  fallen  into  the  depths  of  the  sea, 
nothing  should  have  prevented  my  plunging  in  after  it. 

The  second  year  passed,  hut  not  my  sorrow.  A  faint 
gleam  of  hope  sometimes  refreshed  me  even  in  my 
darkest  hour,  that  perhaps  an  accident  might  bring  me 
in  the  vicinity  of  my  lost  chosen  one,  or  that  at  least  I 
should  have  some  news  of  her. 

It  is  true,  I  did  not  see  the  possibility  of  it.  How 
could  the  distant  one  know,  after  years,  where  the  soli¬ 
tary  one  dwelt  ?  It  was  all  the  same.  What  has  hope 
to  do  with  impossibilities  ? 

But  at  the  end  of  the  second  year,  I  gave  up  this 
hope.  Hortensia  was  dead  for  me.  I  saw  her  no 
longer  in  my  dreams,  except  as  a  spirit  shining  in  the 
rays  of  a  glorified  being. 

Tufaldini  and  his  wife  had  often  asked  me,  in  our 
confidential  conversations,  the  cause  of  my  melancholy. 
I  could  never  prevail  on  myself  to  violate  my  secret. 
They  no  longer  inquired,  but  they  were  the  more  care¬ 
ful  of  my  health.  I  felt  that  the  powers  of  my  life 
were  sinking — and  the  thoughts  of  the  grave  to  me 
were  sweet. 

All  was  suddenly  changed.  One  morning  Sebald 
brought  some  letters  from  the  post.  Among  them  were 
some  new  orders  for  pictures,  and  a  little  casket.  I 
opened  it.  Who  can  imagine  my  joyful  fright  ?  I  saw 
Hortensia’s  image—  living,  beautiful — but  dressed  in 
mourning— the  face  softer,  thinner,  and  paler  than  I 


APPENDIX. 


457 


had  actually  seen  it.  On  a  small  piece  of  paper,  in 
Hortensia’s  hand,  were  written  three  words  :  “  My 
Emanuel,  hope.” 

I  reeled  through  the  room  like  an  intoxicated  person. 
I  sank  down  speechless  on  a  chair,  and  raised  my  hands 
prayerfully  to  heaven.  I  shouted — I  sobbed.  I  kissed 
the  picture  and  the  little  paper  which  her  hand  must 
have  touched.  I  knelt,  and  with  my  face  bowed  to  the 
floor,  weeping,  did  I  thank  Providence. 

Thus  Sebald  found  me.  He  thought  I  was  deranged. 
He  did  not  err.  I  feel  that  man  is  always  stronger  to 
bear  misfortune  than  happiness ;  while  against  the  one 
lie  always  approaches  more  or  less  prepared,  the  other 
comes  upon  him  without  preparation  or  foresight. 

Again  my  hopes  bloomed  out  youthfully,  and  in 
them  my  health  and  life.  Tufaldini  and  all  my  ac¬ 
quaintances  were  delighted  at  it.  I  expected  from  day 
to  day  fresh  news  from  my  dearly  beloved.  There  was 
no  doubt  she  knew  my  residence,  though  I  could  not 
comprehend  how  she  had  acquired  the  intelligence. 
But  from  what  part  of  the  world  did  her  picture  come  ? 
All  my  researches  and  inquiries  on  that  subject  were  in 
vain. 


THE  SOLUTION. 

At  the  end  of  eight  months,  I  received  another  letter 
from  her.  It  contained  the  following  lines  : — 

“  I  may  see  thee,  Emanuel,  only  once  more.  Be  in 
Leghorn  the  first  morning  of  May,  where  thou  shalt 

receive  further  information  from  a  Swiss  mercantile 
20 


458 


APPKNDTX. 


house,  it’  thou  inqnircst  for  the  widow,  Marian 
Schwartz.  Tell  no  one  in  Naples  where  thou  goest ; 
least  of  all  speak  of  me.  I  belong  no  longer  to  any 
one  in  this  world,  except,  perhaps,  for  a  few  moments  to 
thee.” 

This  letter  filled  me  with  new  delight,  but  at  the 
same  time  with  an  anxious  foreboding,  on  account  of 
the  sad  secret  which  seemed  to  pierce  through  it. 
Nevertheless,  again  to  see  the  most  perfect  of  her  sex, 
though  only  for  a  moment,  was  sufficient  for  my  soul. 
I  left  Naples  in  April,  to  the  great  sorrow  of  the  Tufal- 
dini  family.  Sebald  and  every  one  believed  that  I  was 
going  back  to  Germany. 

I  arrived  at  Gaeta  with  Sebald.  We  had  here  an 
unexpected  pleasure.  In  passing  by  the  garden  door 
of  a  villa,  before  the  city,  I  observed,  among  many 
other  young  ladies,  Miss  Cecilia.  I  stopped,  sprang 
down,  and  made  myself  known.  She  led  me  into  the 
circle  of  her  relations.  She  had  been  married  for  three 
months.  I  learnt  from  her  that  she  had  left  Hortensia 
about  a  year  since.  She  knew  nothing  of  the  residence 
of  the  countess,  only  that  she  had  gone  into  a  nunnery. 
“  It  is  already  a  year,”  said  Cecilia,  “  since  Count  Hor- 
megg  died.  From  the  sudden  contraction  of  his  accus¬ 
tomed  expenditure,  I  soon  remarked  that  he  had  left 
his  affairs  in  a  sadly  confused  state.  The  countess 
diminished  her  train  of  domestics  to  a  very  few  per¬ 
sons.  I  had  the  favor  of  remaining  with  her.  As  she 
soon  after,  by  an  unfortunate  lawsuit,  lost  all  hopes  of 
preserving  any  thing  from  the  paternal  estates,  we  were 
all  discharged.  She  retained  only  one  old  attendant, 
and  declared  she  would  end  her  days  in  a  cloister.  Oh, 


APPENDIX. 


459 


how  many  tears  did  this  separation  cost  us !  Hor- 
tensia  was  an  angel,  and  never  more  beautiful,  never 
more  charming,  never  more  exalted,  than  under  the 
heaviest  blow  of  destiny.  She  resigned  all  her  accus¬ 
tomed  splendor,  and  divided,  like  a  dying  person, 
all  the  riches  of  her  wardrobe  among  her  dis¬ 
missed  servants — rewarded  all  with  a  princely  gener¬ 
osity,  which  must  certainly  have  placed  her  in  danger 
of  want,  and  only  begged  us  to  include  her  in  our 
prayers.  I  left  her  in  Milan,  and  returned  home  here 
to  my  family.  She  has  declared  her  intention  of  trav¬ 
eling  to  Germany,  and  there  seeking  the  solitude  of 
a  cloister.’* 

This  relation  of  Cecilia  quickly  solved  the  enigma  in 
Hortensia’s  last  letter.  I  also  learnt  from  her  that 
Charles,  who  was  severely  but  not  mortally  wounded, 
had  immediately  on  his  recovery  entered  into  the  service 
of  the  Order  of  Malta,  and  soon  died. 

I  left  Gaeta  in  a  pensive,  yet  happy  mood.  Horten¬ 
sia’s  misfortune  and  the  loss  of  her  father  excited  my 
compassion,  but  at  the  same  time  gave  birth  to  a  bolder 
hope  than  I  had  at  any  time  ventured  to  conceive.  I 
flattered  myself  that  I  might  be  able  to  change  her 
determination  for  a  cloister  life,  and,  with  her  heart, 
perhaps,  win  her  hand.  I  was  dizzy  with  the  thought 
of  being  able  to  share  the  fruits  of  my  labors  with 
Hortensia.  This  was  my  only  dream  the  whole  way  to 
Leghorn,  which  I  entered  one  fine  morning,  eight  days 
before  the  allotted  time. 

I  did  not  delay  a  moment  in  seeking  out  the  Swiss 
commercial  house  to  which  I  was  directed.  1  ran 
there  in  my  traveling  dress,  and  asked  the  address  of 


460 


APPKNDIX. 


the  widow  Schwartz,  in  order  that  I  might  learn 
whether  the  countess  had  yet  arrived  in  Leghorn.  A 
menial  servant  conducted  me  to  the  widow,  who  lived  in 
an  obscure  street,  and  in  a  very  simple  private  house. 
How  great  was  my  vexation  to  learn  that  Mrs. 
Schwartz  was  gone  out,  and  that  I  must  call  in  two 
hours.  Every  moment  of  delay  was  so  much  taken 
from  my  life.  I  returned  again  at  the  appointed  hour. 
An  old  servant  woman  opened  the  door,  led  me  up 
stairs  and  announced  me  to  her  lady.  I  was  invited 
to  enter  a  simply  furnished,  hut  neat  room.  Opposite 
the  room  door,  on  a  couch,  sat  a  young  lady,  who  did 
not  appear  to  notice  my  entrance,  or  to  return  my  salu¬ 
tation,  but  covering  her  face  with  both  hands,  en¬ 
deavored  to  conceal  her  sobs  and  tears. 

At  this  sight,  a  feverish  shudder  ran  through  me. 
In  the  figure  of  the  young  lady,  in  the  tone  of  her  sobs, 
I  recognized  the  form  and  voice  of  Hortensia.  With¬ 
out  deliberating  or  assuring  myself  of  the  fact,  like  one 
intoxicated,  I  let  hat  and  cane  fall,  and  threw  myself 
at  the  feet  of  the  weeping  one.  O  God  !  who  can  say 
what  I  felt  ?  Hortensia’s  arms  hung  round  my  neck — 
her  lips  met  mine.  The  whole  past  was  forgotten — the 
whole  future  seemed  strewn  with  flowers.  Never  was 
love  more  beautifully  remunerated,  or  constancy  more 
blissfully  rewarded.  We  both  feared,  simultaneously, 
that  this  moment  was  merely  a  dream  of  felicity.  In¬ 
deed,  on  the  first  day  of  our  meeting,  so  little  was  asked 
or  answered,  that  we  separated  without  knowing  more 
of  each  other  than  that  we  had  met. 

On  the  following  day,  one  may  easily  believe  that  I 
was  ready  in  good  time  to  take  the  advantage  of  the 


APPENDIX. 


461 


bewitching  Iiortensia’s  invitation  to  breakfast  with  her. 
Her  servants  consisted  of  a  cook,  a  housemaid,  a  wait¬ 
ing-maid,  coachman,  and  footman.  All  the  table 
service  was  of  the  finest  porcelain  and  silver,  although 
no  longer  with  the  arms  and  initials  of  the  old  count. 
This  appearance  of  a  certain  opulence,  which  was  quite 
contrary  to  my  first  idea,  and  went  far  above  the 
powers  of  my  own  fortune,  was  very  humbling  to  the 
dreamy  plans  I  had  indulged  in  during  my  journey  from 
Gaeta  to  Leghorn.  I  expected,  yes,  I  even  wished  to 
find  Hortensia  in  a  more  limited  situation,  in  order  to 
give  courage  to  offer  my  all.  Now,  I  again  stood 
before  her  the  poor  painter. 

I  did  not  conceal,  in  our  confidential  conversations, 
what  I  had  heard  at  Gaeta  from  Cecilia,  and  what  feel¬ 
ings,  what  determinations,  what  hopes  had  been 
awakened.  I  described  to  her  all  my  destroyed  dreams, 
and  hoped  that  she,  perhaps,  would  give  up  her  cruel 
design  of  burying  her  youth  and  beauty  in  a  cloister ; 
that  she  would  choose  me  for  her  servant  and  true 
friend  ;  that  I  would  lay  at  her  feet  all  that  I  had  saved 
and  all  that  my  future  industry  might  gain.  I  de¬ 
scribed  to  her,  with  the  colors  of  loving  hope,  the  bless¬ 
edness  of  a  quiet  life,  in  some  retired  situation — the 
simple  house,  the  little  garden  near  it,  the  work-room 
of  the  artist,  inspired  by  her  presence.  I  hesitated — 
I  trembled — it  was  impossible  to  proceed.  She  threw 
her  bright  eyes  upon  me,  and  a  heavenly  color  flew 
over  and  animated  her  countenance. 

“  Thus  have  my  fancies  reveled,”  added  I,  aftei  6omc 
time,  “  and  shall  they  not  be  realized  ?” 

Hortensia  arose,  went  to  a  closet,  drewr  out  a  little 


462 


APPENDIX. 


ebony  casket,  richly  studded  with  silver,  and  handed 
it  to  me,  together  with  the  key. 

“In  order  to  deliver  you  this,  I  requested  your 
presence  in  Leghorn.  It  belongs  not  in  part,  but  in 
completion  of  your  dream.  After  the  death  of  my 
father,  my  first  thought  was  to  fulfill  the  duties  of  my 
gratitude  to  you.  I  have  never  lost  sight  of  you  since 
your  flight  from  Battaglia.  A  fortunate  accident 
brought  into  my  hands  the  letter  of  your  servant,  writ¬ 
ten  to  one  of  his  friends  in  my  service,  from  Ravenna, 
giving  your  traveling  plans.  Mr.  Tufaldini,  of  Naples, 
was  persuaded  by  me,  in  a  secret  conference,  to  take 
care  of  you  himself,  forever.  He  received  a  small 
capital  to  defray  all  expenses,  and  even,  if  necessary,  for 
your  support.  I  would,  also,  willingly  have  rewarded 
him  for  his  trouble,  but  it  was  with  the  greatest  reluc¬ 
tance  the  good  man  would  accept  from  me  the  most 
trifling  present.  Thus  I  had  the  pleasure  of  receiving, 
every  four  weeks,  news  of  your  health.  Tufaldini’s 
letters  were  my  only  comfort  after  our  parting.  On 
the  death  of  my  father,  I  separated  myself,  as  regards 
fortune,  from  my  family.  Our  estates  must  remain  in 
the  male  line,  all  the  rest  I  converted  into  gold.  I 
no  longer  thought  of  returning  to  my  native  country — 
my  last  refuge  should  be  a  cloister.  Under  the  pre¬ 
tence  of  impoverishment,  I  avoided  all  the  old  vicinities 
of  my  father,  parted  with  my  former  domestics,  and 
took  a  private  station  and  name,  in  order  to  live  more 
concealed.  It  was  not  until  I  had  accomplished  all 
this,  that  I  summoned  you,  in  order  to  finish  the  work, 
and  redeem  the  vow  which  I  had  made  to  Heaven. 
The  moment  is  at  hand.  You  have  related  to  me  your 


APPENDIX. 


463 

beautiful  dreams.  Perhaps  on  yourself,  more  than  on 
any  other,  now  depends  their  realization.” 

She  opened  the  casket,  and  drew  out  a  packet  of 
papers,  carefully  secured  and  directed  in  my  name  ;  she 
broke  the  seal  and  laid  before  me  a  deed  prepared  by  a 
notary,  in  which,  partly  as  a  payment  of  a  debt,  partly 
as  accrued  interest  which  belonged  to  me,  and  partly 
as  being  heir  to  an  inheritance,  left  by  the  widow 
Marian  Schwartz,  an  immense  sum  in  bank-notes  of  dif¬ 
ferent  countries,  was  made  over  to  me. 

“This,  dear  Faust,”  continued  the  countess,  “  is  your 
property — your  well-earned,  well-deserved  property.  I 
have  no  longer  any  share  in  it.  A  modest  income  i3 
sufficient  for  me  at  present.  When  I  renounce  the 
world  and  belong  to  a  cloister,  you  will,  also,  be  heir  to 
what  I  possess.  If  I  am  of  any  value  to  you  prove  it 
by  an  eternal  silence  as  regards  my  person,  my  sta¬ 
tion,  and  my  true  name.  Yet  more,  I  desire  you  to 
say  not  a  syllable  which  can  indicate  refusal  or  thanks 
for  this,  your  own  property.  Give  me  your  hands  to  it.” 

I  listened  to  her  speech  with  surprise  and  pain,  laid 
down  the  papers  with  indifference,  and  replied  : 

“  Do  you  believe  that  these  bank-notes  have  any 
value  for  me?  I  may  neither  refuse,  nor  yet  be  thank¬ 
ful  for  them.  Be  not  fearful  of  either.  AVhen  you  go 
into  a  cloister,  all  that  remains,  the  world  itself,  is  super¬ 
fluous  to  me.  I  need  nothing.  What  you  give  is  dust. 
Ah  1  Hortensia,  you  once  said  that  it  was  my  soul 
which  animated  you ;  were  it  still  so,  you  would  not 
pause  to  follow  my  example.  I  would  burn  these  notes. 
What  oh  all  I  do  with  them  ? — destroy  you  and  your  for¬ 
tune  Hgo  !  Oh  !  that  you  were  mine  !  Hortensia,  mine  1’' 


464 


APPENDIX. 


She  leant  tremblingly  toward  me,  clasped  one  of  my 
hands  in  both  of  hers,  and  said  passionately,  and  with 
tears  in  her  eyes  : — 

“  Am  I  not  so,  Emanuel  ?” 

“  But  the  cloister  ?  Hortensia !” 

“  My  last  refuge — if  thou  forsakest  me !” 

Then  made  we  our  vows  before  God.  At  the  altar, 
by  the  priestly  hand,  were  they  consecrated.  We  left 
Leghorn.,  and  sought  the  charming  solitude,  in  which 
we  now  dwell  with  our  children. 


HISTORY 


OF  THE  INTRODUCTION  OF 

THE  HARMON  I AL  PHILOSOPHY 

INTO  GERMANY. 


COMPILED  BY  MARY  F.  DAVIS. 


While  the  truths  of  the  New  Dispensation  were 
making  rapid  strides  in  America,  thoughtful  and  recep¬ 
tive  minds  in  the  Old  World  also  felt  the  throbbings 
of  “  the  electric  chain,”  and  awoke  to  action.  Two 
noble-spirited  Germans  undertook  the  work  of  trans¬ 
lating  American  publications  of  a  progressive  character 
— chiefly  works  on  the  Ilarmonial  Philosophy — into 
the  German  language.  One  of  them,  the  distinguished 
Botanist  and  Philosopher,  Professor  Christian  G.  Nees 
von  Esenbeck,  devoted  the  closing  years  of  his  life  to 
the  philanthropic  laboi’,  which  was  continued  by  his 
friend  and  pupil,  Gregor  Constantin  Wittig,  of  Breslau. 
The  following  are  extracts  from  the  first  letter  received 
by  the  author  from  the  translator : — 

20* 


466 


APPENDIX. 


MR.  WITTIG  TO  A.  J.  DAVIS. 

Breslau,  June  28,  I860. 


Your  Revelations  reached  me  at  Breslau,  through  a  dear  friend 
and  patron  whom  I  can  never  forget — the  President  of  the 
Imperial  Leopold  Academy  of  Physicists,  at  Berlin — the  celebrat¬ 
ed  botanist  and  natural  philosopher,  Christian  G.  N.  Esenbeck — 
having  been  sent  to  him,  in  the  latter  part  of  the  year  1856,  by 
the  hand  of  some  unknown  frind  in  Bremen.  It  was  destined  to 
solace  the  last  days  of  his  laborious  life  with  the  fulfillment  of  his 
anticipations  and  hopes  for  the  progress  of  natural  science  and 
the  free  religion  of  Humanity.  The  profound  importance  of 
Magnetism,  and  its  flower,  Clairvoyance,  for  the  future  advance 
of  the  mind — an  importance  which  he  had  long  before  anticipated 
and  proclaimed — was  in  this  work  disclosed  to  him  in  all  its  full¬ 
ness.  Moreover,  as  a  physician  he  was  acquainted  with  your 
Physician  ;  as  an  instructor  he  prized  your  Teacher;  as  a  prophet 
of  a  fairer  future  for  the  German  people,  through  political  and 
religious  unity,  he  appreciated  your  Seer;  and  his  daily  increas¬ 
ing  enthusiasm  he  shared  with  me,  who  enjoyed  the  confiding 
intimacy  of  his  last  remaining  days,  and  was  his  true  disciple  in 
philosophy  and  religion.  ...  In  the  advanced  years  of  this 
gray-headed  man  of  science,  it  had  become  impossible  for  him  to 
execute  alone  so  great  a  work  as  the  German  translation  of  the 
three  volumes  of  your  Great  Harmonia ,  and  he  therefore  chose 
me  for  his  assistant,  and,  dying,  confided  to  me  the  completion 
of  the  enterprise.  Until  the  day  when  he  retired  to  the  couch  of 
his  last  sickness, with  eyes  dimmed  with  age,  he  labored  upon  his 
portion  of  the  sublime  philosophy  of  God — when  the  Angel  of 
Death  bore  him  to  the  higher  vision  of  the  Deity,  on  the  sixteenth 
of  March,  1858.  In  this  last  period  of  his  life,  in  consequence  of 
political  persecution  for  my  intercourse  with  the  leaders  of  the 
Free  Religious  movement  in  Breslau,  1  lived  in  banishment  in  the 
town  of  Striegau,  seven  German  miles  from  that  city. 

There  I  finished  the  manuscript  left  to  my  care  by  my  friend,  as 


APrEXDIX. 


467 


well  ae  my  own  translations,  when,  near  the  end  of  the  year  1 858, 
by  marriage  with  a  lady  who  is  a  free  citizen  of  Breslau,  I  re¬ 
gained  my  privilege  of  residence  there.  In  my  present  situation, 
as  secretary  of  a  judicial  functionary,  I  still  find  leisure  for  the 
performance  of  iny  favorite  and  self-imposed  task  of  translating 
all  your  remaining  writings,  of  which  I  may  be  able  to  become 
the  possessor.  ........ 

With  feelings  of  unchangeable  regard,  I  remain  henceforth, 
Your  true  and  most  devoted, 

Gregob  Constantin  Wittig. 


Among  the  friends  of  Spiritual  Progress  in  New  York 
was  a  cultivated  German,  Heinrich  Schlarbaum,  who 
felt  a  deep  interest  in  the  work  of  Mr.  Wittig.  Mr. 
Schlarbaum  corresponded  directly  with  the  translator, 
offering  his  sympathy  and  aid,  and  in  due  time  received 
a  reply  from  that  earnest  friend  of  truth. 

MR.  WITTIG’S  LETTER  TO  II.  SCHLARBAUM. 

Breslau,  August  10,  1862. 

Esteemed  Friend  and  Brother: —  .  .  .  Your  friendly 

letter  has  the  old  charm  for  me,  as  it  brings  me  news  of  the 
person  who  has  for  five  years  so  deeply  interested  me,  for  whom 
I  have  so  strong  a  sympathy,  and  whose  spiritual  rays  are  destined 
to  bless  all  nations  with  light  and  knowledge.  You  are  fortunate 
that  you  are  so  near  him.  Do  not  imagine  that  the  regard  I  feel 
for  him  is  a  transient  excitement,  and  therefore  exaggerated  in 
expression.  His  Philosophy  is  that  golden  treasure  of  the 
enchanted  land  of  which  I  was  wont  to  dream  with  such  yearn¬ 
ing,  when  a  boy,  among  the  hills  of  my  native  village,  and  with 
which  I  longed  to  gladden  the  hearts  of  my  poor  parents.  At 
last  I  have  found  it.  But  I  long  to  dispense  it  witn  full  hands  to 


468 


APPENDIX. 


my  friends  and  acquaintances  and  the  German  people.  Of  the 
“Divine  Revelations  ”  I  have  translated  sections,  which  T  have 
styled  “Cosmology”  and  “Geology,”  and  its  “Principles.” 
“The  Physician,”  “The  Teacher,”  “The  Seer,”  and  “The  Re¬ 
former,”  are  translated  and  ready  for  the  press.  The  smaller 
works  aro  nearly  so,  viz.  :  “  The  Philosophy  of  Special  Provi¬ 
dences,”  and  “Free  Thoughts  on  Religion;  or  Nature  versus 
Theology.”  The  “  Chart  of  the  Approaching  Destiny  of  the 
Human  Race”  is  sketched  out,  and  the  “  Magic  Staff  ”  begun. 
Do  you  not  think  here  is  wealth  to  make  the  lasting  happiness  of 
our  German  world?  But,  alas!  I  am  in  want  of  the  gold  and 
silver  in  which  to  set  my  sparkling  gems,  and  without  such  set¬ 
ting  I  can  not  intrust  them  to  the  hands  of  others.  Is  it  not  hard 
to  think  that  the  “  Ilarmonial  Philosophy  ”  has  been  compelled 
to  go  begging  among  German  publishers  for  two  years?  But  I 
have  adopted  a  plan  which  will,  perhaps,  meet  with  success.  I 
intend  to  prepare  a  Prospectus,  at  my  own  expense,  of  all  of  Mr. 
Davis’s  works  which  I  have  translated,  and  to  circulate  it  among 
all  the  principal  establishments,  through  a  dealer  here.  I  may 
thus  obtain  a  publisher.  I  have  also  some  faint  hopes  of  making 
a  loan,  that  will  enable  me  to  publish  them  myself.  This  would 
be  the  best  plan,  but  it  would,  at  the  same  time,  be  for  me  the 
most  difficult.  Where  can  the  generous  heart  be  found  that 
would  voluntarily  tender  thousands  of  dollars  for  so  useful  and 
noble  an  enterprise!  Such  hearts  there  are,  but  how  can  they 
be  found?  I  would  gladly  renounce  all  reward  for  myself,  if  I 
might  but  obtain  a  wide  dissemination  for  these  glorious  truths. 


September  4,  1862. 

— I  had  written  thus  far,  August  16,  when  I  was  prevented 
from  bringing  my  letter  to  a  conclusion.  I  am  still  alone  in  my 
enterprise  for  the  publication  of  my  translations.  But  the  printed 
Prospectus  dispatched  to  you  with  this  letter,  will  show  you  the 
exertions  I  am  making  The  time  has  come  when  I  must  find  a 
publisher  at  any  cost.  If  I  possessed  the  means,  I  would  myself 


APPENDIX. 


469 


have  the  teachings  of  the  Harmonial  Philosophy  printed  in 
golden  letters  upon  silken  sheets.  My  views  on  this  point  I  have 
set  forth  at  greater  length  in  mv  Prospectus,  and  also  in  an  ar¬ 
ticle  for  the  Herald  of  Progress ,  sent  with  this  letter  to  Mr. 
Davis.  It  is  full  two  years  since  I  have  written  him.  During 
this  period  ten  of  his  works  have  been  translated,  and  the  manu¬ 
script  is  ready  for  the  printer.  “  The  Philosophy  of  Spiritual 
Intercourse”  has  already  been  taken  in  hand  for  the  new  series, 
and  will  be  ready  in  October.  Thus  I  continue  to  labor  at  my 
great  and  beautiful  task,  striving  after  my  glorious  ideal,  though 
I  may  never  reach  it. 

Your  valuable  letter  of  September  3,  1860,  contains  so  many 
interesting  particulars,  that  I  can  not  but  desire  to  hear  further 
from  you.  You  say  :  “  To  see  the  works  of  Davis,  Edmonds, 
Tuttle,  and  others,  translated  into  German  is  my  ardent  desire  ; 
should  your  future  labors  take  that  direction,  you  may  rely  upon 
my  sympathy  and  assistance.”  I  accept  this  friendly  offer,  and 
would  thank  you,  in  your  next,  to  give  me  such  information  in 
regard  to  the  works  mentioned  as  will  enable  me  to  obtain  them. 
Beside  Davis’s  works,  I  have  taken  up  the  excellent  treatise  of 
Mr. Partridge  on  “Spiritualism,”  and  am  not  disinclined  to  trans¬ 
late  other  good  works  into  German,  after  completing  those  of 
Mr.  Davis.  Every  thing  from  the  Beyond  seems  to  me  as  home¬ 
like  as  a  greeting  from  some  fairer  German  Fatherland. 

And  yet  how  much  that  is  mournful  has  occurred  within  these 
two  years  in  your  now  <fis-United  States!  I  await  with  trem¬ 
bling  and  fearful  expectation  the  final  issue.  Now,  for  the  first 
time,  the  disasters  of  war  seem  really  to  have  fallen  upon  the  armies 
of  the  North.  May  the  spirit  of  Freedom  grant  them  the  cour¬ 
age  and  the  power  for  a  most  glorious  victory !  It  is  for  your 
country  to  deal  the  death-blow  to  Slavery,  and  brutality,  and  the 
old  order  of  things  generally.  France  has  not  sent  her  legions 
to  Mexico  without  a  purpose,  and  if  the  Union  fall,  the  new 
French  Emperor  would  in  Europe  tread  us,  too,  beneath  his  feet. 
Yet  I  know  that  the  Redeemer  for  the  people  of  Freedom  is  al¬ 
ready  born,  and  that  he  will  rule  over  all  nations!  Wisdom,  the 
flower  of  Reason,  by  means  of  this  terrible  stnggle  of  humar 


470 


APPENDIX. 


passions,  will  prescribe  the  laws  of  her  eternal  state  to  the  puri¬ 
fied  Union.  Unity  is  the  fundamental  principle  of  all  natural 
and  political  life,  and  this  unity  is  the  Divine  law  of  movement 
for  all  struggling  forces.  The  thought  of  unity  with  us  in  Ger¬ 
many,  too,  is  again  awakened,  and  finds  expression  in  the  Schiller 
and  Fichte  Festivals,  and  the  Rifle  and  Turner  Unions.  Whe 
knows  what  may  happen  here  among  us,  even  in  the  course  of 
one  short  year? . Your  friend, 

G.  C.  Wittig. 


In  another  letter  of  the  same  date,  addressed  to  A. 
J.  Davis,  Mr.  Wittig  said  that  he  had  sent  his  Pros¬ 
pectus  to  the  publishing  house  of  F.  F.  Weber,  Leipsic, 
and  that  he  should  continue  his  efforts  to  find  a  pub¬ 
lisher.  He  had  even  taken  some  steps  toward  under¬ 
taking  the  publication  of  the  Harmonial  works  on  his 
own  account,  in  the  event  of  being  disappointed  in 
all  his  expectations.  He  had  sent  a  letter,  with  the 
Prospectus,  to  Weber,  giving  a  brief  survey  of  the 
tendency  and  bearings  of  the  Harmonial  Philosophy. 
Comparing  it  with  German  speculation,  he  wrote : — 

A  new  Philosophy  opens  its  victorious  career  in  the  writings 
of  Mr.  A.  J.  Davis,  which,  in  the  consciousness  of  its  own  har¬ 
mony,  does  by  no  means  seek  to  exalt  itself  by  pride  and  con¬ 
tempt  over  the  philosophic  systems  of  other  nations,  but  seeks  to 
render  them  all  fruitful,  falling  upon  their  closed  calices  like  the 
pollen  of  flowers.  That  this  is  true,  that  this  Philosophy  really 
possesses  the  sublime  quality  of  universality,  is  shown  by  its  se¬ 
vere  and  beautiful  simplicity,  and  its  endeavor  to  give  to  Nature, 
Reason ,  and  Intuition  their  highest  scientific  value,  thus  securing 
to  itself  the  stamp  of  the  standard  system  for  all  time.  In  order, 
however,  to  reveal  this  character  of  spiritual  perfection,  it  was 
necessary  that  its  expounder  should  bring  to  bear  more  improved 


Appendix. 


471 


means  and  instruments  of  thought  than  had  hitherto  been  within 
the  reach  of  philosophic  minds.  With  the  German  mind,  specu¬ 
lation  had  already  won  its  highest  triumphs  in  Kant,  Fichte, 
Schelling  and  Hegel.  The  power  of  the  merely  logical  faculty  had 
in  the  last-mentioned  philosopher  attained  its  most  varied  cul¬ 
ture,  and  the  materialism  of  the  seuses  had  thus  reached  its 
highest  development.  German  speculation  also  had  already 
reached  the  limits  of  the  profoundest  problems,  and  the  search 
for  the  interior  essence  of  things — the  so-called  things  in  them¬ 
selves — had  been  pushed  to  the  utmost  in  their  investigations. 
But  the  speculation  of  logic  and  the  senses  could  not  pass  its  own 
sensuous  limit ;  it  was  like  the  unarmed  eye,  to  which  the  won¬ 
ders  of  the  universe,  of  great  and  little  magnitudes,  that  are  uu- 
vailed  only  by  the  telescope  and  microscope,  remained  concealed 
from  deficiency  of  vision  and  a  lack  of  the  power  of  discrimina¬ 
tion. 

This  philosophic  telescope  and  microscope  of  a  faculty  that 
penetrates  the  innermost  being ,  deeper  than  the  senses,  is  now 
found  in  the  gift  of  magnetic  clairvoyance ,  and  in  that  spiritually- 
perfect  rational  intuition  and  illumination  which  have  raised 
the  author  of  the  works  named  to  be  the  philosophical  Gallileo 

of  our  day . These  books  form,  as  it  were,  a  new 

Gospel  of  Wisdom ,  the  teachings  of  which  will  be  seized  upon 
with  avidity,  and  even  with  transport;  for  they  are  addressed  to 
the  most  interior  and  secret  thoughts  and  emotions  of  the  human 
mind,  and  stir  with  quiet  power  that  endless  yearning  for  knowl¬ 
edge,  which  we  see  so  gloriously  embodied  in  Goethe's  “Faust.” 


Responsive  to  the  enthusiasm  of  his  gifted  country¬ 
man,  and  inspired  with  like  ardor  in  the  service  of 
Truth,  Mr.  Schlarbaum  wrote  the  following  timely  ap¬ 
peal,  which  was  published  in  the  Herald  of  Progress: — 


172 


APPENDIX. 


MR.  SCHLARBAUM’S  LETTER  TO  A.  J.  DAVIS. 

New  York,  September  26,  1862. 

Dear  Sir: — I  have  translated  for  yon  the  letters  of  Mr.  Wittig. 
He  is  full  of  energy  for  a  good  cause.  Our  duty,  it  seems  to  me. 
would  be  to  take  hold  of  the  facts  as  they  present  themselves, 
and  make  the  best  out  of  them  for  the  good  of  our  German 
brethren.  Wittig  is  thoroughly  imbued  with  the  importance  of 
your  writings.  And  the  opposition  he  everywhere  meets  has 
made  him  earnest  and  anxious.  ..... 

Two  years  ago,  when  I  got  the  first  letter  from  Wittig,  the 
thought  struck  me  that  the  dissemination  of  works  like  yours 
should  not  be  made  to  depend  on  the  motives  of  mere  tradesmen  ; 
the  society  of  generous  Americans  should  lend  a  helping  hand, 
and  bless  the  rising  and  future  generations  with  them.  Human¬ 
ity  needs  it . 

I  think  your  Herald  should  lay  the  matter  before  American 
men  of  Progress.  Let  an  “  European  Publishing  Association  ”  for 
these  works  be  formed ;  let  its  committee  regulate  and  prepare 
matters;  let  a  call  for  means — $1,000  to  $1,500  is  enough  to  be¬ 
gin  with — go  through  the  world  ;  let  us  do  our  best ;  then  the 
poor,  hard-working  Wittig  can  be  assisted  just  in  such  a  way  as 

will  serve  best  for  a  happy  issue . It  is  admitted 

that  one-quarter  of  our  army  is  of  German  descent !  Much  hard, 
bloody  work,  is  done  by  the  immigrated  people;  let  us,  therefore, 
make  a  glorious  gift  to  that  freedom-loving  nation— the  people 
of  Germany. 

Truly  yours, 

H.  SoHLARBAUM. 


In  accordance  with  the  suggestion  an  informal  meet¬ 
ing  was  held  in  New  York,  and  a  committee  was 
chosen,  of  which  the  members  were  William  Green, 


APPENDIX. 


473 


Eliza  W.  Farnhara,  Mary  F.  Davis,  H.  Schlarbaum, 
and  C.  M.  Plumb.  A  Circular  was  issued,  asking  con- 
tributions  to  “  The  European  Harmonial  Publishing 
Fund,”  which,  in  addition  to  the  appeals  of  the 
Herald,  was  circulated  far  and  wide  among  American 
Spiritualists.  Tidings  of  the  movement  brought  re¬ 
sponsive  words  from  progressive  Germans  in  our  midst ; 
and,  among  others,  the  following  communication  found 
way  to  the  editorial  sanctum  : — 

LETTER  FROM  DR.  PHILIP  SCHULHOF.* 

New  Yoke,  March  30,  1863. 

A.  J.  Davis — Dear  Sir  : — My  heart  leaps  for  joy,  for  I  see  in 
the  Herald  of  Progress,  of  March  28,  an  article  headed:  “The 
European  Harmonial  Publishing  Fund.”  My  soul  responds  in 
anticipation  of  the  diffusion  of  light  and  happiness  by  means  of 
publishing  a  translation  of  the  works  of  Mr.  A.  J.  Davis,  and 
other  Spiritual  writings,  by  Herr  G.  C.  Wittig,  of  Breslau,  Ger¬ 
many,  a  gentleman  of  enthusiasm,  love,  and  knowledge. 

I  see  already  not  only  the  millions  of  inhabitants  of  Germany, 
but  also  the  German  population  of  our  beloved  United  States, 
and  of  every  inhabited  part  of  this  globe,  imbibing  the  principles 
of  the  Harmonial  Philosophy,  through  the  simple  medium  of  lay¬ 
ing  before  them  these  very  principles  in  their  native  tongue,  and 
such  teachings  will  obtain  an  easy  entrance  into  their  hearts,  as 
they  are  mostly  prepared  for  the  reception  of  truth. 

I  am  able  to  testify  from  my  experience  that  Germans,  as  a 
whole,  are  industrious,  sober,  honest,  charitable,  freo  from  bigot¬ 
ry,  cheerful,  and  art  and  science-loving.  See  their  May-feasts, 
Sangerbunds,  Turner  Societies,  and  Operas.  Song,  music,  gym- 

*  This  spiritual-minded  and  steadfast  friend  of  the  Harmonial 
Philosophy,  passed  on  to  his  home  in  the  Summer  Land,  in  June,  1867. 
He  was  a  cordial  supporter  of,  and  leader  in,  the  Children’s  Progressiva 
Lyceum  of  New  York. 


474 


APPKNDIX. 


nasties,  and  order  prevail  tliere.  They  not  only  practice,  but 
love  science,  art,  music,  and,  above  all,  liberty  and  full  freedom 
of  thought.  They  will  and  do  fight  for  it.  They  showed  their 
appreciation  of  human  rights  in  emancipating  the  women — their 
mothers,  wives,  and  daughters — from  the  thralldorn  of  slavery,  at 
a  time  of  barbaric  darkness.  At  a  time  when  the  most  enlight¬ 
ened  nations  of  the  world  lived  in  bigamy,  the  followers  of 
Herman  would  not  countenance  the  multiplicity  of  wives. 

Volumes  could  be  written  on  this  subject,  but  I  can  not  tres¬ 
pass  on  your  time  and  patience  to  indulge  in  further  elucidations 
in  respect  to  the  German  nation,  since  all  of  this  is  known  to  you 
as  well. 

But  of  one  thing  I  am  certain,  and  that  is,  the  great  monu¬ 
mental  benefit  such  a  publication  will  be  to  the  progress  of  the 
people  of  America;  for  there  are  multitudes  of  Germans  living  in 
this  country  who  will,  with  open  hearts,  accept  any  thing  good 
coming  from  the  beloved  Fatherland.  Why?  It  is  recognized 
by  German  scientific  men  and  published  by  celebrated  book-sell¬ 
ing  houses  there ;  wherefore  they  will  put  more  trust  in  it,  and 
consequently  read  it.  And  how  vastly  will  our  dear  country 
gain  by  the  awakening  of  such  an  increase  of  Spiritual  elements, 
which  at  present  lie  hidden  and  latent,  scarcely  perceived  or  sup¬ 
posed,  in  those  hearts,  an  inheritance  from  their  ancestors.  But 
yon  can  see  its  manifestations  in  their  tenderness  of  feeling,  hos¬ 
pitality,  and  kind  friendship.  Oh  !  what  a  foundation  for  Harmo- 
nial  development!  Therefore,  I  do  wish  you  God  speed.  Go  on; 
arouse  our  friends  and  brothers  in  Progress ;  have  them  con¬ 
tribute  their  material  aid  ;  it  requires  but  a  little  money  to  effect 
such  a  great  and  sublime  end. 

I,  for  one,  do  pledge  my  hearty  co-operation  as  far  as  my  means 
will  allow,  and  when  we  unitedly  put  our  shoulders  to  the  wheel 
success  will  crown  the  effort,  and  happiness  be  diffused  over  the 
world  at  large. 

I  see  by  intuition  how  this  New  Dispensation  spreads  like 
wildfire  over  the  continent  of  Europe,  from  plain  to  hill,  from 
hill  to  mountain,  there  to  shine  as  a  beacon  to  the  world.  It 
spreads  from  the  Hartz  to  the  Alps — over  the  Giant  Mountain  to 


APPKNDIX. 


475 


the  Carpats — and  a  host  of  warriors  for  the  truth  it  will  awaken 
from  their  slumbers,  and  rouse  laborers  in  the  vineyard  of  Har¬ 
mony  by  thousands  and  hundreds  of  thousands.  Wherefore  my 
heart  rejoices,  and  I  thank  you  for  the  taking  in  hand  of  such  an 
important  enterprise  as  the  support  and  aid  of  publishing  Spirit¬ 
ual  writings  in  the  German  tongue. 

Yours,  for  Progress, 

I)r.  Ph.  Schuliiof. 


Encouraging  words  came  also  from  many  warm  and 
earnest  American  hearts,  accompanied,  in  some  in¬ 
stances,  by  contributions  for  the  work.  Hudson  Tuttle, 
who  had  dune  noble  service  in  the  production  and  dis¬ 
semination  of  spiritual  literature,  and  whose  “Arcana” 
was  already  translated  into  German,  wrote  a  letter  to 
the  Banner  of  Light ,  urging  Spiritualists  to  give 
their  aid  and  influence  to  the  good  cause. 

EXTRACTS  FROM  HUDSON  TUTTLE’S  LETTER. 

Walnut-Grove  Farm,  April  12,  1863. 

The  German  world  is  as  yet  almost  ignorant  of  the  blessed 
literature  of  Spiritualism.  They  are  only  acquainted  with  the 
physical  phenomena,  and  but  partially  even  with  them.  The  first 
volume  of  the  Arcana  was  the  first  ray  of  light  they  received. 
It  was  not,  however,  published  ostensibly  as  a  spiritual  work,  but 
as  a  new  and  scientific  exposition  of  the  system  of  Nature,  and 
was  in  this  manner,  and  by  the  high  standing  of  its  translator, 
borne  into  favor. 

It  is  now  proposed  to  raise  a  fund  by  which  the  glorious  writ¬ 
ings  of  Davis  and  others  can  be  at  once  presented  to  the  thinkers 
of  Germany.  The  Germans  are  proverbial  for  their  belief  in 
spiritual  mysteries,  and  for  a  century  have  been  laying  the  founda¬ 
tions  of  Spiritualism.  There  is  no  doubt  if  the  new  philosophy 


476 


APPENDIX. 


is  presented  to  them,  they  will  seize  it  with  avidity,  and  tha 
greatest  good  will  grow  out  of  it. . 

The  directors  of  the  movement  are  men  noble  and  generous, 
who  have  their  whole  hearts  in  the  glorious  work,  and  will  at 
once  receive  the  entire  confidence  of  the  friends  of  the  cause. 
Than  H.  Sehlarbaum,  a  more  devoted  Spiritualist,  a  more  generous 
and  noble-souled  man,  does  not  exist.  A  German,  he  has  the 
deep  spiritual  nature  of  the  Teuton,  sharpened  and  Americanized 
by  a  long  residence  in  our  country.  He  has  not,  however,  for¬ 
gotten  Germany  and  the  millions  of  brothers  he  has  left,  and 
with  an  energy  and  devotion  worthy  of  the  object,  he  has  de¬ 
termined  to  send  light  into  their  darkness. 

The  eminent  scholar,  Herr  Wittig,  with  indefatigable  industry, 
has  translated  all  of  Davis’s  works,  and  is  now  going  on  trans¬ 
lating  other  works  on  Spiritualism.  Patiently  he  awaits  the 
response  of  the  New  World,  asking  no  other  pay  for  his  labor 
but  the  diffusion  of  the  truths  he  so  dearly  loves. 

Personally,  I  have  no  interest  at  stake;  but  as  a  believer  in 
the  Divine  Philosophy  of  spiritual  intercourse,  I  can  but  feel 
deeply  anxious  for  the  success  of  this  movement,  which  I  con¬ 
sider  of  more  consequence  than  all  the  tracts  and  bibles  dis¬ 
tributed  to  the  heathen  for  the  last  hundred  years— of  more 
consequence,  because  a  great  and  enlightened  nation  are  to  be 
convinced  and  brought  to  the  knowledge  of  the  light.  It  is  not 
savages  whom  we  wish  to  enlighten,  savages  who  are  not  as  well 
off  with  a  book  as  a  fishing-net,  but  a  nation  of  the  deepest 
thinkers,  the  most  scientific  and  spiritual  of  the  Old  World. 

Hudson  Tuttle. 


While  these  events  were  transpiring  in  America,  in 
spirations  were  ripening  to  purposes  in  a  European 
mind,  which  were  destined  to  bring  great  results.  In 
distant  Russia,  a  lonely  student,  “  a  child  of  that  great 
Slavonian  race,  which  is  so  highly  distinguished  for 


APPENDIX. 


477 


its  mystical  tendencies,  and  its  fondness  for  spiritual 
facts  and  questions,”  was  earnestly  seeking  avenues  for 
the  promulgation  of  spiritual  truth,  and  longing  for 
association  with  kindred  minds.  This  was  Alexander 
Aksakof,  a  nobleman  of  St.  Petersburg.  Tiie  following 
letter,  which  failed  of  its  destination,  but  of  which  a 
copy  has  been  lately  received,  will  show  better  than 
any  description  some  of  the  beautiful  qualities  and 
divine  impulses  of  this  truth-inspired  nature  : — 

LETTER  FROM  ALEXANDER  AKSAKOF. 

Moscow,  April  12,  1864. 

Mr.  Andrew  Jackson  Davis: — 

My  Weli.-beloved  Brother  and  Friend: — You  wish  to  ob¬ 
tain  the  name,  residence,  and  occupation  of  every  individual  who 
identifies  himself,  in  public  and  practice,  witli  the  cause  of  spir¬ 
itual  and  material  progress.  (Progressive  Annual,  1862,  page  43.) 

I  could  not  satisfy  your  demand  before,  for  I  obtained  that 
Annual  only  in  January,  1864.  Since  my  youth,  I  always  felt 
attracted  to  researches  of  truth  concerning  the  internal  nature  of 
man  ;  or,  in  other  words,  Philosophy  and  Theology  were  studies  of 
my  decided  predilection.  In  1831,  at  nineteen  years  of  age,  having 
completed  my  studies  at  the  Imperial  Lyceum,  at  St.  Petersburg, 
I  became  acquainted  with  the  doctrines  of  Swedenborg,  your 
guide  and  friend  in  the  spirit-world.  Dazzled  by  the  light  of  his 
writings,  and  young  yet,  I  accepted  his  doctrines  with  grateful 
enthusiasm,  for  they  were  to  me  the  highest  expression  of  re¬ 
ligion.  To  perfect  myself  in  the  science  of  correspondences,  1 
studied  Hebrew,  occupying  myself  afterward  to  read  the  internal, 
spiritual  sense  of  the  Evangel  of  St.  John.  A  work  resulting 
therefrom  was  published  in  1864,  at  Leipsic,  under  the  title  : 
“  Five  Chapters  of  the  Evangel  of  St.  John,  with  an  Exposition  of 
the  Spiritual  Sense,  accor .ling  to  the  Science  of  Correspondences.” 

But  the  study  of  Hebrew  was  only  a  philosophical  recreation, 


478 


APPENDIX. 


but  no  progress;  and  the  more  I  advanced  in  the  exegesis  of  St. 
John,  the  more  weaknesses  I  perceived  ;  that  is  to  say,  the  pov¬ 
erty  and  arbitrariness  of  the  internal  sense  by  correspondences 
became  more  and  more  apparent.  Following  my  researches  in 
the  domain  of  unknown  forces  in  Nature,  I  occupied  myself  with 
assiduity  in  homeopathy  and  magnetism,  and  in  order  to  use  to 
better  advantage  the  attained  convictions,  I  studied  medicine  and 
kindred  sciences.  At  this  time,  I  translated  into  Russian  the 
“  Magneto-therapy  ”  of  Count  Szapary,  which  was  published  at 
St.  Petersburg,  in  1860. 

The  great  news  of  the  facts  of  American  Spiritualism  did  not 
fiud  me  skeptical  or  indifferent.  Notwithstanding  the  difficulties 
caused  by  the  Russian  Censure,  I  obtained  the  majority  of  the 
books  and  journals  that  treated  of  the  great  question.  I  read 
the  “Principles  of  Nature”  in  1855,  and  afterward  all  your 
other  works  as  fast  as  I  obtained  them.  I  enjoyed  with  delight 
the  perfume  of  truth.  I  had  loved  Swedenborg.  I  had  much 
studied  him.  I  had  made  him  disciples  that  became  my  friends. 
But  in  proportion  as  I  studied  your  writings  the  weak  sides  of 
his  doctrines  came  more  and  more  to  light;  by  degrees  the  rest 
of  religious  dogmatism  left  me,  and  to-day  I  belong  with  body 
and  soul  to  Spiritualism  and  the  Harmonial  Philosophy. 

After  ten  years  of  study  I  got  ready  for  the  work.  But  how 
was  I  to  act?  What  was  to  be  done?  You  know  that  we  have 
here  no  freedom  of  the  press — no  public  speech  ! 

In  1860,  I  made  a  voyage  to  Paris.  I  hastened  to  make  the 
acquaintance  of  the  French  Spiritualists,  but  found  myself  greatly 
disappointed.  The  accredited  system  was  the  Spiritism  of  Mr. 
Kardec,  that  teaches  the  reincarnation  of  the  soul.  Their  re¬ 
searches  went  more  after  facts  than  for  doctrine;  and  respecting 
the  things  that  transpired  outside  of  France,  they  were  simply  not 
informed.  Poverty  in  facts,  in  science,  and  in  ideas — this  is  what 
I  found  in  Paris.  They  knew  your  name,  it  is  true,  but  no¬ 
body  had  read  your  works.  I  knew  that  their  translation  in 
Russian  was  forbidden  at  home,  but  as  French  books  can  circu¬ 
late  there  with  more  facility,  I  resolved  to  publish  in  Paris  a 
French  translation  of  your  works.  Popularizing  your  doctrines  in 


APPENDIX. 


479 


France,  I  expected  to  transplant  them  to  my  own  country.  I 
found  a  good  translator,  but  could  not  procure  a  single  copy  of 
the  works,  either  in  Paris  or  in  London !  I  had  to  return  to 
Russia,  finding  myself  compelled  to  abandon  my  project.  At  the 
present  time,  Miss  Guerin,  in  Paris,  and  Mr.  Petters,  at  Frond, 
in  Belgium,  are  occupied  in  translating  yon  into  French. 

After  my  return  to  Russia,  I  resolved  to  print  a  Russian  trans¬ 
lation  that  I  had  made  of  Swedenborg’s  “  Heaven  and  Hell.” 
This  being  a  very  systematic  and  nearly  orthodox  book,  I  thought 
it  useful  to  serve  as  a  transition  to  the  novel  ideas.  The  book 
was  published,  1863,  in  Leipsic,  with  a  preface  that  contained  a 
rapid  glance  at  Spiritualism  and  its  doctrines.  I  presented  Swe¬ 
denborg  in  it,  not  as  the  founder  of  a  Church,  but  as  a  Spiritual¬ 
ist  and  medium.  Among  other  things,  I  said  in  that  Preface, 
“that  modern  facts  have  proved  the  truth,  though  relatively,  of 
his  revelations  to  the  world,  and  therefore  his  work,  ‘Heaven 
and  Hell,’  can  be  read  to-day  with  so  much  the  more  confidence 
and  profit.”  You  must  remember  that  the  works  of  Swedenborg 
are  forbidden  here.  My  translation  experienced  the  same  fate. 
It  circulates  through  my  hands,  but  the  public  at  large  can  not 
obtain  it.  Tbe  printing  of  the  work  has,  therefore,  not  given  me 
any  result  whatever.  Its  Preface  directed  against  me  the  most 
violent  recriminations  from  the  small  number  of  New  Jerusalem¬ 
ites  that  live  here,  who  did  imagine  that  I  had  thrown  stones 
against  Swedenborg;  that  I  had  poisoned  his  book ;  that  I  gave 
myself  over  to  Satan,  &c. ;  and  some  that  called  themselves 
my  friends  did  abandon  me.  I  had  to  endure,  in  the  circle  of  my 
intimate  affections,  very  painful  sacrifices. 

During  this  winter,  I  have  written  a  critique  of  Swedenborg’s 
system.  In  the  shape  of  objections  and  contradictions,  I  have 
exposed  not  only  the  weak  sides  of  his  doctrines  respecting  the 
origin  of  evil  and  the  freedom  of  man,  but  also  the  internal 
sense  of  the  word  as  a  proof  of  his  divine  inspiration.  By  this 
means  I  hope  to  revive  the  research  for  truth.  If  the  disciples 
of  Swedenborg  begin  to  doubt  the  infallibility  of  their  master, 
they  may,  perhaps,  leave  that  enchanting  circle  which  blocks  up 
their  intellectual  progress  and  leads  them  to  fanaticis  n.  But  as 


4S0 


ATPKNDIX. 


tliis  critique  is  but,  a  polemical  work,  it  is  only  negative,  and  can 
not  produce  much  positive  good.  A  system  can  only  be  assailed 
by  a  system,  and  evil  should  be  overcome  by  good. 

In  view  of  all  this  the  translation  of  your  writings  into  Rus- 
sian  has  the  greatest  interest  for  me.  You  know  that  Russia 
is  just  now  on  the  highway  to  reform,  and  we  may  soon 
get  even  the  freedom  of  the  Press!  (Remark  in  1867:  this 
hope  has  not  been  realized.)  The  materialism  of  the  German 
school,  preached  by  Yoigt  and  Buckner,  makes,  under  the  garb 
of  science,  rapid  progress  here.  Lately  the  English  book — 
“  Vestiges  of  Creation  ” — has  been  translated  into  Russian.  I 
will  try  to  use  it  as  a  kind  of  pedestal  to  introduce  the  translation 
of  the  “Principles  of  Nature.”  Next  winter  I  expect  to  go  to 
work.  Meanwhile  the  publication  of  your  works  in  French  or 
German  is  of  equal  interest  to  me.  In  the  Annual  of  1863,  you 
say,  page  74,  “  Several  volumes  of  the  Harmonial  Philosophy 
have  been  already  translated  in  Germany,  and  await  the  advent 
of  a  publisher.”  Inform  me  of  the  name  and  address  of  the 
translator,  and  I  will  immediately  open  correspondence  with  him, 
proposing  with  pleasure  to  be  the  editor  of  his  translations.  It 
is  partly  this  news  that  prompted  me  to  address  you  to-day.  The 
Revue  Spirite  of  1861,  page  153,  announces  nearly  the  same  fact, 
naming  Mr.  Wittig,  of  Breslau.  I  have  written  under  that  direc¬ 
tion,  but  no  such  person  has  been  found.  Mr.  Hornung  (who 
wrote  the  German  book,  “New  Secrets  of  the  Day,”  on  Spiritu¬ 
alism)  whom  I  saw  in  Berlin,  in  1862,  and  who  died  since,  could 
not  tell  me  any  thing  positive  respecting  a  German  translation  of 
your  works. 

In  general,  Spiritualism  is  very  little  known  in  Russia.  The  few 
that  claim  it  received  it  as  the  Spiritism  of  Kardec,  which  fact 
explains  itself,  as  the  French  literature  being  so  poor  on  the  sub¬ 
ject  leaves  only  the  books  of  Kardec.  I  am  not  aware  of  a 
single  person  here  who  occupies  himself  with  Spiritualism  as  a 
means  of  reform  and  progress.  From  the  bookstores  of  Moscow 
and  St.  Petersburg  I  know  that  I  am  the  only  person  that  re¬ 
ceived  your  books  and  others  of  the  spiritualistic  literature  of 
America.  Thus  in  tins  immense  country  I  am  alone  stu lying 


APPENDIX. 


481 


and  loving  your  doctrines — alone  in  this  large  field  of  labor, 
hoping  for  better  days  when  freedom  of  press  and  speech  shall 
prevail.  ........ 

You  will  greatly  oblige  me  by  answering  this  in  the  columns 
of  the  Herald  ;  but  not  being  very  sure  of  always  receiving  it,  it 
would  make  me  very  happy  indeed  to  have  your  direct  answer. 
I  thank  you  from  the  deptli  of  my  soul  for  all  the  good,  moral 
and  intellectual,  that  you  have  done  me,  and  for  the  freedom 
that  I  attained  through  you.  I  greet  you  as  a  brother  and  friend. 

Alexander  Aksakof. 


Unfortunately,  as  tlie  above  communication  mis¬ 
carried,  the  writer  was  for  two  years  longer  baffled  in 
his  efforts  to  find  the  devoted  Wittig.  At  last,  how¬ 
ever,  the  following  letter  reached  the  translator,  and 
opened  the  way  to  welcome  association,  mutual  interest, 
and  joint  fraternal  labors  for  the  advancement  and  ele¬ 
vation  of  Humanity : — 

FROM  ALEXANDER  AKSAKOF  TO  CL  0.  WITTIG. 

Dresden,  Saxony,  January  15,  I860. 

Dear  Sir: — From  the  Journal  Psyche,  edited  by  Dr.  C.  A.  Ber- 
thelen,  at  Zettau,  a  German  publication  devoted  to  science  and 
spiritual  knowledge,  and  from  the  editor’s  letters  to  me,  I  learn 
that  you  have  translated  three  volumes  of  A.  J.  Davis’s  “  Great 
Harmonia,”  without  finding  a  publisher  for  them. 

l  am  a  Russian  Spiritualist,  and  an  admirer  of  Mr.  Davis’s 
writings.  I  perceive  with  great  satisfaction  that  Germany  will 
soon  have  facilities  for  becoming  acquainted  with  the  Philosophy 
of  Spiritualism.  Please  inform  me  what  you  have  already  trans¬ 
lated,  what  you  are  going  to  take  in  hand,  and  what  the  prospects 
of  publication  are.  I  am  connected  with  the  publisher,  Franz 
21 


482 


APPENDIX. 


Wagner,  in  Leipsic,  who  issued  my  Russian  translation  of 
Swedenborg’s  “Heaven  and  Hell,” in  1863,  and  will  shortly  pub¬ 
lish  my  translations  of  Hare’s  and  Edmonds’s  works.  It  might 
be  arranged  that  Mr.  Wagner  would  also  publish  your  transla¬ 
tions.  Please  inform  me  what  conditions  you  propose  for  it. 
Inform  me,  also,  respecting  Professor  Nees  von  Esenbeck,  who 
translated,  with  you,  some  of  Mr.  Davis’s  writings.  Have  you 
the  third  volume  of  “Great  Hannonia,”  the  “Seei-,”  completely 
and  literally  translated,  or  merely  parts  of  it?  Expecting  your 
earliest  answer, 

I  remain,  with  much  esteem, 

A.  Aksakof. 


New  hope  thrilled  the  heart  of  the  translator  on  the 
reception  of  this  letter.  He  had  placed  the  precious 
manuscripts,  over  which  he  had  so  long  and  patiently 
toiled,  in  the  hands  of  a  publisher.  But  the  results  of 
red-handed  war  were  pressing  on  the  American  people. 
Contributions  for  the  “  European  Publishing  Fund  ” 
came  in  slowly,  and  enthusiasm  declined  when  the 
TIerald  of  Progress  was  no  more.  Then  came  from  a 
distant,  despotic  realm,  a  liberty-loving,  truth-adoring 
Brother,  who,  in  the  spirit  of  noblest  beneficence, 
pledged  his  pecuniary  aid  for  the  publishing  of  all  the 
German  translations  !  Alexander  Aksakof  became  the 
bosom  friend  and  wise  counselor  of  the  loving-hearted, 
noble-minded  Wittig.  The  manuscripts  were  rescued, 
much  defaced  and  mutilated,  from  the  publishing  office 
where  first  deposited,  revised,  and  placed  in  the  hands 
of  Franz  Wagner,  of  Leipsic,  Mr.  Aksakofs  faithful 
publisher. 

In  the  Religio- Philosophical  Journal  of  August  4, 


APPENDIX. 


483 


1866,  appeared  the  following  communication  from  Mr. 
Sclilarbaum,  announcing  these  changes  and  encourag¬ 
ing  prospects : — 

MR.  SOHLARBAUM’S  REPORT. 

Many  of  your  readers  will  remember  the  attempt  made  in  1862, 
by  the  Herald  of  Progress ,  to  raise  funds  for  the  publication  of 
Harmonial  works  in  German.  A  number  of  noble  souls  responded 
to  the  calls  made,  and  contributions  were  handed  over  to  the 
Treasurer  of  the  German  Publishing  Fund,  by  which  the  committee 
was  enabled  to  assist  the  translator  of  Mr.  A.  J.  Davis’s  works  in  his 
arduous  labors.  The  amounts  raised  were  not  sufficient,  however, 
to  go  forward  very  energetically,  mainly,  perhaps,  on  account  of 
our  war,  which  disheartened  and  encumbered  so  many  of  us;  and 
when,  finally,  the  Herald  of  Progress  was  discontinued,  the  Fund 
lost  its  organ,  and  the  committee  was  compelled  to  restrict  its 
labors  to  what  little  it  could  do.  All  the  funds,  however,  have 
been  sacredly  devoted  to  the  ends  contemplated  by  the  donors. 
Encouraged  and  strengthened  by  the  assistance  from  America,  Mr. 
Wittig,  in  Breslau,  in  Prussia,  the  translator,  has  persevered  in 
his  exertions  for  the  good  cause.  lie  has  lately  had  the  good 
fortune  to  become  acquainted  with  a  Russian  gentleinanof  wealth 
and  distinction,  a  true  nobleman,  who  could  not  help  making  the 
Harmonial  Philosophy  his  own  in  word  and  action,  and  with  his 
munificent  help  the  publication  of  all  of  Davis’s  works  seems 
now  to  be  secured  to  the  German  nation.  The  first  eight 
proof  sheets  of  the  fourth  volume  (The  Reformer)  of  the  Great 
Harmonia,  printed  at  Leipsic,  by  Wagner,  are  in  my  hands.  Our 
German  friends  concluded  to  begin  with  this  fourth  volume,  as 
being  better  calculated  to  secure  the  attention  of  the  German  people. 
“The  Magic  Staff,”  adorned  with  Mr.  Davis’s  steel  engraving,  the 
‘‘Divine  Revelations  of  Nature,”  and  all  the  other  parts  of  the 
“Great  Harmonia,”  will  follow  in  quick  succession,  being  ready 
for  the  printer  these  last  three  years.  Steps  are  now  being 
taken  to  secure  the  extensive  sale  of  this  German  edition  here. 
If  many  educated  Germans  residing  among  us  felt  attracted  to 


484 


APPENDIX. 


the  principles  of  the  Harraonial  Pliilosopliy,  even  if  presented  to 
them  in  the  dress  of  the  English  language,  the  ability  to  bring  it 
home  to  their  searching  minds  in  their  own  mother  tongue  will 
greatly  facilitate  the  widest  dissemination  of  it.  The  peculiar 
organization  of  the  German  book-trade  will  serve  a  like  end. 
All  the  publishers  in  the  “  Fatherland  ”  are  united  in  a  certain 
manner,  and  whatever  book  is  published  in  any  large  or  small 
German  city  is  sent  broadcast  all  over  the  land  “for  inspection,” 
and  finds  its  way  to  the  study  of  every  inquiring  mind,  before 
even  a  purchase  of  the  book  is  made.  This  German  publication 
will  do  a  great  deal  for  the  proper  appreciation  of  Ilarmonial 
views  in  Europe;  and  just  now,  this  time  of  commotion,  war, 
and  future  reconstruction,  seems  to  be  the  best  moment  for  it. 

II.  SonLAKBAUM. 


It  is  with  wonder  and  admiration  that  we  trace  the 
life-lines  of  these  two  European  Reformers,  now  united 
to  the  vanguard  of  Progress  in  this  country  by  all 
spiritual  and  imperishable  ties.  Each  struggled  in 
loneliness  for  many  years,  hemmed  in  by  obstacles  that 
would  have  been  insurmountable  to  any  but  heroic 
souls.  To  both  Heaven  sent  an  inestimable  blessing  in 
the  sympathy,  kindred  faith,  and  loving  co-operation 
of  those  who  bear  the  sacred  name  of  wife ;  but  aside 
from  that,  each  toiled  on  in  utter  social  isolation,  until 
the  happy  moment  came  which  united  their  lofty  en¬ 
deavors.  We  who  have  the  utmost  freedom  of  expres¬ 
sion  by  tongue  and  pen ;  who  have  unlimited  access  to 
books,  periodicals,  and  free  platforms;  who  have  the 
advantage  of  gathering  en  masse  for  free  Conventions; 
and  who  enjoy  the  high  privilege  of  social  converse 
with  multitudes  possessing  kindred  ideas  and  faith,  may 


APPENDIX. 


485 


well  summon  our  powers  anew  when  we  behold  the 
moral  energy,  love,  patience,  trust,  and  devotion  of 
these  transatlantic  brethren  under  the  weight  of  social 
and  governmental  restrictions.  The  following  letter, 
received  during  the  past  year,  shows  the  present  animus 
of  the  movement : — 

ALEXANDER  AKSAKOF  TO  A.  J.  DAYIS. 

No.  6  Nevsky  Prospect, 

St.  Petersburg,  October  13,  1867. 

Beloved  Brother  and  Friend: — I  am  happy  that  I  have  now 
a  letter  from  you,  doubly  happy  at  the  idea  that  it  will  not  be  the 
last  one,  and  that  a  more  or  less  animated  correspondence  may 
be  established  between  us.  All  my  past  efforts  to  reach  you 
have  failed.  In  1858  I  wrote  you  my  first  letter,  dated  from 
Nizney  Novgorod ;  in  18G4  I  dated  my  second  from  Moscow,  and 
here  now  I  am  writing  my  third,  which  I  am  sure  will  reach  you 
sooner  or  later. 

Your  letter  of  July  26,  N.  Y.,  reached  me  September  16, 
nearly  on  the  borders  of  Asia,  at  the  village  of  Alexfindrofka 
(Government  of  Samara,  near  the  city  of  Boogoolma),  where, 
having  an  estate,  I  ordinarily  spend  my  summers.  I  did  not 
come  home  to  St.  Petersburg  till  September  30,  which  explains 
the  lateness  of  my  answer.  Now,  my  friend,  as  my  words  finally 
have  reached  you,  let  me  press  you  to  my  heart;  let  me  thank 
you  from  the  bottom  of  my  soul  for  the  good  that  you  have  done 
me.  You  have  made  me  free  in  the  whole  immense  signification 
of  this  word,  by  teaching  me  how  I  was  not  free.  You  have 
taught  me  to  make  my  peace  with  myself  and  my  fellow-man.  You 
made  it  impossible  for  me  to  complain  against  Providence,  by 
giving  me  an  understanding  of  the  stern  justice  of  the  cause  and 
its  effect.  I  learned  from  you  what  evil  is,  and  how  to  enjoy  the 
present  day.  I  have  experienced  heavenly  joys  and  earthly  griefs 
also.  After  many  temptations  and  defeats,  happy  days,  days  of 


486 


APPENDIX. 


glory  have  come ;  and  Truth,  after  having  commenced  on  me 
its  work  of  redemption,  brings  me  every  day  new  joys  and  conso¬ 
lations. 

As  Swedenborg  had  formerly  effected  his  work  of  intellectual 
and  moral  emancipation  in  me — having  translated  his  works, 
prompted  by  a  feeling  of  deep  thankfulness  and  an  ardent  desire 
to  let  all  humanity  participate  in  the  boon  of  possessing  truth — so 
it  is  in  the  present  days.  While,  to  my  present  convictions,  the 
Ilarmonial  Philosophy  comes  nearest  to  the  truth,  I  feel  myself 
prompted  by  the  same  desire  to  return  my  tribute  of  thankfulness 
by  disseminating  its  teachings,  if  not  in  my  own  country,  at  least 
among  another  European  people.  I  try  to  be  free  from  illu¬ 
sions.  I  do  not  expect  to  see,  while  I  live  here,  that  enthusiasm 
in  others  which  I  have  for  the  source  of  happiness — the  adequate 
solution  of  the  profoundest  aspirations  of  my  soul.  I  know  very 
well  that  the  negative  side  of  your  teachings  may  not  be  quite 
new  for  the  German  rationalist,  while  the  positive  side  of  them, 
connecting  the  external  intuition  with  the  internal,  and  thus  re¬ 
constructing  a  system  of  natural  religion  that  might  be  called  a 
spiritualistic  rationalism,  will  be  treated  by  men  of  scienco  with 
sarcasm  and  disdain,  almost  as  if  they  were  offended  by  speaking 
of  their  own  immortality.  But  this  does  not  intimidate  me. 
Happily  we  have  to  do,  not  alone  with  men  of  science,  but  with 
men  in  general ;  we  offer  them  not  a  new  science  alone,  but  a  new 
life;  and  if  among  them  there  is  found  one  single  soul  that 
understands  and  heeds  your  writings — a  soul  that  derives  the 
same  amount  of  good  from  them  as  I  have  done,  and  is  thus  born 
to  new  life,  my  efforts  will  be  amply  rewarded,  and  I  shall  have 
tno  consolation  of  not  having  been  ego'iste  in  my  happiness. 

No,  my  friend,  I  will  not  hesitate  to  pursue  the  work  that  we 
have  begun.  What  is  commenced  we  expect  to  finish  at  an  early 
day;  for,  although  yet  young,  my  health  is  not  firm,  and  I  dis¬ 
like  to  close  my  existence  here  without  the  conviction  of  having 
been  of  some  good  on  earth.  .  .  .  ... 

It  is  sad,  that,  in  serving  the  cause  of  Spiritualism  and  the 
Harmonial  Philosophy,  I  have  to  operate  on  a  foreign  soil.  All 
that  treats  of  Spiritualism,  including  your  works,  is  proscribed 


APPENDIX. 


487 


here ;  the  books  of  Kardec  alone  enjoy  an  exception.  Thus  all 
niy  efforts  in  this  line  are  in  vain.  But  I  do  not  lose  courage.  I 
understand  very  well  that  the  state  of  affairs  in  Russia  does  not 
accord  with  the  publication  of  the  religious  and  philosophical 
works  of  Spiritualism.  As  a  movement  of  general  reform  it  is 
too  radical ;  it  can  only  have  its  right  “  to  be  ”  in  a  free  country. 
Our  public  press,  and  speech,  and  action,  being  under  the  control 
of  the  Government,  it  can  not  take  root,  nor  have  any  effect 
whatsoever.  I  submit  to  these  circumstances,  seeing  clearly 
that  it  would  be  labor  lost  to  act  in  opposition  to  the  conditions 
of  time. 

But  there  is  no  reason,  I  think,  why  the  phenomenal  part  of 
Spiritualism  should  remain  unknown.  The  sensuous  demonstra¬ 
tion  of  the  immortality  of  the  human  soul,  this  decisive  victory 
won  over  materialism,  is  a  fact  that  can  not  but  do  service  to  any 
Christian  doctrine.  From  this  point  of  view,  I  will  continue  to 
battle  against  all  opposition,  using  every  effort  to  give  the  de¬ 
served  publicity  at  least  to  the  facts  of  Spiritualism.  After  the 
defense  of  the  doctrine,  the  history  of  the  doctrine  can  and 
should  be  known  also. 

In  1805,  I  laid  before  the  public  censors  the  manuscript  of  my 
translation  of  the  experimental  part  of  Prof.  Hare’s  work,  but 
they  forbade  the  printing  of  it.  In  1800,  I  had  it  printed  at 
Leipsic,  in  Germany,  and  did  all  that  lay  in  my  power  to  enter  it 
into  the  Russian  book-trade,  but  all  in  vain.  They  found  in  it  a 
few  sentences  which  Russian  Orthodoxy  could  not  tolerate.  But 
I  will  repeat  my  efforts  with  Hare’s,  Edmonds’s,  and  De  Mor¬ 
gan’s  works,  taking  care  to  dwell  strictly  on  facts,  without  en 
tering  at  all  the  domain  of  doctrine. 

Do  you  approve,  dear  friend,  my  reasoning  and  projects? 
Could  you  advise  me  how  to  serve  our  cause  in  any  other  way  in 
a  country  that  is  strictly  orthodox,  and  void  of  all  public  free¬ 
dom  ?  What  I  painfully  regret,  besides,  is  that  I  am  quite  alone 
here  in  my  interest  for  Spiritualism  and  its  works.  We  have,  it 
is  true,  a  small  number  of  Spiritists,  of  A.  Kardec’s  school,  but 
I  am  very  little  acquainted  with  them,  and,  besides,  Spiritism  dif¬ 
fers  from  Spiritualism,  and  still  more  from  the  Ilarmonial  Philoso- 


488 


APPENDIX. 


phy.  Among  the  members  of  that  circle,  I  met  but  one  person 
who  reads  and  understands  English.  What  chances,  then,  are 
left  me  to  be  united  with  others,  or  to  live  and  act  in  this  com¬ 
munity,  while  all  my  interests  concentrate  in  the  grand  move¬ 
ment  of  universal  reform  in  America?  Among  men  of  science, 
I  know  only  the  Professor  of  Philosophy  of  the  University  of 
Moscow,  who  is  interested  in  the  subject.  He  understands  the 
whole  bearing  of  this  Spiritualistic  movement,  and  takes  the 
aiost  lively  interest  in  the  publication  of  your  works,  being  fully 
.mpressed  with  their  full  value.  He  is  the  only  person  with 
whom  I  may  seriously  speak  on  the  subject,  and  yet,  all  he  has 
read  is  the  “Reformer,”  in  German.  .... 

Accept,  my  friend,  the  sentiments  of  deep  gratitude,  esteem, 
and  affection,  which  unite  me  to  you. 

Alexander  Aksakof. 


The  “  Reformer”  and  the  “  Magic  Staff”  have  been 
issued  in  excellent  style,  in  the  German  language,  by 
the  enterprising  publisher,  Wagner;  and  Mr.  Wittig 
writes,  under  date  of  December,  1867,  from  St.  Peters¬ 
burg,  where  he  was  enjoying  a  visit  with  Mr.  Aksakof: 
“  With  the  greatest  satisfaction  I  am  enabled  to  send 
you  the  joyful  news  that  the  munificence  of  our  friend 
will  help  along  the  publication  of  ‘ISTature’s  Divine 
Revelations’  in  such  a  wise,  that  the  printing  will 
begin  soon  after  my  return.”  The  Spiritualists  of 
America  will  enshrine  in  their  heart  of  hearts  the 
names  of  those  who  have  proclaimed  to  the  German 
nation  the  “glad  tidings  of  great  joy,”  thus  opening 
for  the  European  continent  the  golden  gateway  tc 
Light,  Love,  Wisdom,  and  Liberty. 


THE  END. 


